Path of Establishing
by Linlin23
Summary: Explaining how Hotch and Reid become Hotch/Reid.  Morgan notices, and things get complicated, but not for everyone.  Slash warning, some language, adult themes, but if the fic were a salsa, flavor would be mild.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: Morgan notices something about Reid and Hotch.**

**Warnings: You almost have to squint to see the implied slash in this chapter, nothing graphic. Yet. Very little cussing, but if that bothers you, turn back. Turn back before it gets worse.**

**Copyrights: Criminal Minds belongs to CBS, not me. I can wish though.**

**Special Thanks to Starofoberon for beta'ing this story!**

**Morgan's Take**

It only took two letters to confirm a fear that Morgan had long since put to rest in his mind. Just two letters, and the world as he knew it was undone.

It wasn't anything striking, nothing that screamed for attention. Small things. Simple things, that maybe he should have paid more attention to at first. If he had noticed them, if he had followed the instincts blessed upon him, then maybe it wouldn't have come to this. Maybe it wouldn't have gone this far?

It was all so subtle, no one else had caught on to what was right under their noses. He had only seen it because it was his friend. Although he hated to admit it, it was his best friend. Not that there was anything wrong with Reid, but when your best friend is a co-worker then your social life has taken a plummet.

He conceded the point was beyond plummet when he actually let Reid talk him into a History Channel exclusive unveiling of King Tut's tomb.

On a Saturday night.

Again, not that hanging out with Reid wasn't fun, even despite his helpful narration of an already boring show, but it was the night to go out. The night to dance, drink, and make love until the stars went to bed.

History luckily, he had thought, did not repeat itself in the form of a Star Trek marathon the following weekend. Morgan put his foot down there and then. Reid's big eyes begged, and he didn't budge. Given the boy's amazing powers of passive aggressive persuasion, _cue a pouty lip_, that's a feat in and of its self.

Unfortunately the sad doe eyes, quivering lip, and grasped pleading palms were still extremely effective on the rest of their team. The team that was there, in the bullpen, when Reid had asked. Morgan had to duck more then one glare, elbow, and dodge a Jolly Rancher thrown his way courtesy of Garcia.

"Hell no! Look," Morgan raised his hands up in literal defense of his being, "I gave up last weekend for a dried-up old dead guy. I'm going to need to see some soft, young lady moving herself in ways that would even make your mister Tut roll in his grave, to make up for that!"

Hotch actually came down from his office when objects had started to fly across the Bureau's floor aimed at one of his agents. Normally he wouldn't involve himself when his team became rowdy, but Rossi and Prentiss had joined with Garcia in the pelting of sweets. That, and Garcia was holding a Family Size bag.

If Strauss got wind of this, well, it would mean just one more visit. He'd have to explain why someone put their eye out while not in the field. How do you file _Jolly Rancher incident_ under workers' comp?

"All right, enough!" Hotch commanded sternly, silently cursing that he used the same tone he did when Jack was misbehaving. Their reaction was near mirror image to that of Jack's, so he conceded that at least it was effective.

"He was making my baby boy cry!" Garcia snapped, her finger pointing accusingly at Morgan, who gasped at the accusation.

"Princess," He stepped around Hotch, who had taken the act of human shield between Morgan and the bag of poised sweets, "you need to get those pretty blue eyes checked. He's not crying! He's pouting. Would I ever make our boy cry?"

While Morgan and Garcia went off on technicality, everyone else shared a look. Reid dipped his head toward Hotch, swallowing hard as he whispered what they all were thinking, "Did they just conjointly claim me as their son?"

Hotch let out a sigh, a fragment of a smile crossing his lips, as arms crossed to watch Garcia give Morgan a thorough tongue lashing. "Reid, why do you have everyone attacking Morgan?"

"I didn't do anything," Reid stood tall beside Hotch. Unfortunately it did not completely compensate for the difference in height. "I just wanted to hang out Saturday. However, unless I'm up for a tow through the bars of D.C., it's looking more like it will be me and a book."

"I suppose the book is winning at the moment," Hotch commented, as they continued to watch the two fight. Rossi snatched the bag of candy deftly from Garcia's hand when she raised her arms over her head in frustration. He smiled, winked at Hotch, and took his prize up to his office to the unawares of the tech who'd just been robbed. "It might not be up your alley either, but Jack and I have a movie night every Friday when I'm not away."

"Really?" Reid asked, a childish smile pulling at his lips. The idea of a family doing normal things was sweet. Odd, but sweet. Somewhere in his head he placed family activities shown on the television under the same category as everything else that wasn't educational. AKA: fiction.

"Yes, and you're welcome to come if you like. Though," Hotch turned his head enough that Reid could see the smile dancing in those dark eyes, the one that rarely touch his lips, "Jack always gets to choose what we watch."

"I can work with that," Reid nodded back, his mind already in overdrive on the best ways to suggest the 'Wrath of Khan' that would grab a six-year-old's attention. His smile only brightened with the concept of how simple that should be.

"Don't get your hopes up too much," Hotch coughed into his hand, reading the train of thought Reid had silently partaken, "The movie 'Nine' has been something he's been very interested in watching for a while now."

"Tim Burton is cool too," Reid nodded, frowning and silently cursing at the child's apparently good taste in entertainment.

"Bring your movie as well," Hotch nodded, patting Reid on the shoulder. "Even if he says no, he does have a bedtime. We can watch it after he's asleep."

"Alright, it's a date!" Reid chirped, grinning ear to ear at the promise of company in sharing something he enjoyed. His smile deepened even more at the idea of sharing in something he'd never had. Normalcy.

The bickering between Morgan and Garcia had paused, so they could catch their breath, just as Reid had confirmed their plans for the evening. In fact, everyone in the bullpen, including the phone lines, had taken that exact breath of time to be silent, making the announcement the only sound that crossed the ears of everyone in the lower floor. A pin drop could be heard in the void that followed the proclaimed 'date'.

"W-Whoo~!" Reid stuttered, standing up on his chair to address the fellow FBI agents currently jaw dropped and stunned with shock. "H-Hold up," he squeaked, crossing his hands franticly in a 'time-out' fashion, "N-No! T-That is NOT what it sounded like~"

"Reid!" Morgan started for the man, to get him off the spinning office chair before he fell. Reid caught the severe look on his face, and miss interpreted it for anger instead of concern. Reflexively he took a step back, only there was no place to step back to. Furniture, long legs, and mis-matched blue and red striped socks did a flip through the air.

Hotch had the misfortune of also seeing the precarious perch of the genius, and had moved toward him to get him down as well. The misfortune being that said genius's tumble landed him sprawled across Hotch, who took both their weights as they hit the ground.

Hotch wanted to curse, but the air had been knocked out of him by a bony elbow to the diaphragm. Reid scrambled to pull himself off his stunned boss, sputtering apologies as he flushed bright red. "H-Hotch, I'm sooo~" a hand pressed into Aaron's stomach earned a muffled grunt from the elder man. If possible Reid's voice hitched up another notch, "And for that too! I'm so sorry!"

Morgan was there in that instant, pulling Reid up like he weighed no more then a sack of potatoes. Reaching down his hand to Hotch, he offered him help in standing. Morgan blinked, worried when Hotch didn't respond. His eyes were unfocused, as he blinked through the confusion clouding them. His face was a little flushed, and Morgan began to worry if the tumble hadn't caused a concussion.

"Hotch?" Morgan waved into his boss' line of sight. Hotch blinked again, his eyes clearing as he registered the arm before him. Grasping the appendage, Aaron let the agent haul him to his feet. "Hotch, you all right? You hit your head?"

"No… I'm fine," Hotch blinked again, his eyes darting about the room as he straightened himself. "I'll see you at seven. Just don't show Jack how to jump off the couch," Hotch muttered to Reid, pressing a hand to his brow as he left the bullpen for his office.

Reid gave a curt nod, and mouthed an _I'm sorry _at the retreating form. Pulling his chair back up off the ground, Spencer collapsed into its seat, burying his face in his hands. "Morgan, what am I going to do?"

"About?" Morgan asked nonchalant, gathering up some of the candies that littered the floor and dropping them onto his own desk for later.

"Don't ask the mean man! He wouldn't understand," Garcia soothed, taking a seat on the corner of Reid's desk, running bright polished fingers through the light brown hair. "You're going to pick up something for Jack's movie night. It will show Hotch that you're sorry, and make Jack happy."

"Hey," Reid lifted his pale, long face from his hands. His dark eyes looked finding Garcia, like the sun had risen behind her golden locks. "Garcia, you're right! That's a good idea." Reid leaned back into his chair, running a thoughtful finger over his top lip in contemplation.

"Of course it is Sweetness," She smiled, tapping his nose with her finger. "Movie nights always need snacks."

"Hey, I heard what you said," Morgan batted his eyelashes at Garcia, "How long you gonna keep me in the dog house for making genius here sad?"

Garcia tapped her chin, getting up from her seat as she moved to return to her computers. "I think a couple drinks on that wild outing you have planned for Saturday would make up for it," she flashed him a ruby lipped grin. Strutting her way out the door, she didn't wait for a confirmation.

"Hey, it's a date!" Morgan hollered after her.

Just as he did, a miracle occurred. Twice in less then fifteen minutes the bullpen hit another strange lull of silence. At this same moment Kevin had walked up to the still swung open door, his goal Garcia, but he stopped. His eyes went wide, his mouth dropped, and Morgan groaned as he braced himself for what was to follow.

Prentiss muttered something about the cosmos falling into alignment against the BAU this morning, as she watched Kevin sputtered on about the indignities of making advances on "his girlfriend."

Reid quirked a smile as Kevin's finger did hesitant, fearful, jabbing hits into Morgan's chest. He was already humoring himself with thoughts of movies, popcorn, soda, and company. If there was an alignment, which he seriously doubted there were any close enough to effect the gravitational pull of the ocean let alone the sound levels of the BAU, it couldn't be all bad.

"Now, what sort of 'snack' would be well received for our pre-determined social engagement?"

It never hurt to be safe though.

Morgan wasn't there for what happened next, but he was… He was there when Reid turned to Hotch to ask his opinion on a case. He was there when Reid needed someone to talk to, but it wasn't Morgan he went to. He was there when the games of cards they played on the jet grew less frequent.

It wasn't all the time. Reid would still come to him if he had a particularly hard issue. He would still sit with Morgan on the jet and play cards. Morgan was aware the change had started with Hotch's movie night. The fact that it continued every weekend didn't bother him, as it seemed to help Reid calm part of that socially frantic awkwardness.

Hotch was like a father figure to them all. Morgan knew when Gideon left, Reid had taken the departure like a repeat of his past. More so then anyone because Gideon had become more akin to a father then his real dad ever had. When Rossi joined he took up the mantle, to an extent.

Where Gideon had guided, Rossi stood back to let it play out. Sometimes Morgan thought of it as sink-or-swim mentality. Their parenting techniques were completely opposite. While Reid was still reliant on Rossi in some degree as Gideon's replacement, he wasn't nearly as dependent as he had been with Gideon.

He had seen Reid grow stronger. More independent. It scared Morgan sometimes, because it was like watching Reid standing on his own, alone. Part of him was waiting for a gust to come around and knock him down, and he wanted to be there for him if he fell.

So when Reid started to spend more time, more focus, on Hotch, Morgan noticed. He was probably the only one to notice the small shift in Spencer. At first, Morgan didn't mind. It seemed both of them were doing better. Reid was more grounded, and on more then one occasion Morgan actually caught Hotch smiling. It was during one of those smiles, during a musing about Hotch as a father figure to Reid, that every instinct of the profiler in him went off like an alarm.

If a father were looking at his child, like how Aaron Hotchner was looking at Spencer Reid right now, Morgan would have that man slammed into a station wall so fast his head would crack. Shaking his head, Morgan took several breaths, and used rationalization.

One, Hotch was straight. Two, Reid would have said something to him. Three, there was no way Hotch would break any rule involving fraternization with an SSA under his command, gay or straight. Never happen.

It worked. The look he had seen on the jet ride home from the ill fated case passed from his mind.

When they all got back, the lot of them voted to get wasted to take out some of the misery of the case. Hotch and JJ declined. JJ wanted to see Will and her son. Hotch wanted to get back to Jack. Reid declined as well, that was usual for him. They all poked and prodded, all the while he was insisting he had plans.

"You have a girl in those plans?" Morgan winked at his friend, giving him a nudge in the ribs which earned him a chagrined scowl.

"No, but I do have other things I'd rather do then spend the night bar hop~" Reid paused as his phone chirped. He pulled it from his pocket, flipping through a text. Sighing, Spencer relented, holding up his coat in the air and offering to silver cab to resounding cheers.

By the fourth bar, they were all plastered. Garcia, Prentiss, and Rossi were on the dance floor, stumbling about, but at this late hour everyone was. Morgan had just taken a break to get a drink at their table, finding it empty of people, but full of coats.

He didn't know why he did it, other then curiosity. He wanted Reid to date, to have someone he could love and love him in return. He knew the pin to the cell. He recognized the caller ID from the last text Reid received. He could read the words, and still it didn't make any sense. With how Reid's insistences that he had other plans, all of which were dismissed the moment he received the text, it screamed that Reid was dating. But this…

"Please tell me you guys are done soon!" Reid grumbled, returning from the restroom. Slipping back into his chair, he sipped on his coffee. He was tired, his eyes on the dance floor and their friends attempts to dance, but his gaze was miles away.

Spencer grinned, commented on how at least it was amusing. He never noticed Morgan had his phone, and Morgan couldn't get his mouth to work regardless. Slipping the cell back into his friend's jacket pocket, Morgan waited until he was sure his voice worked before he suggested they call it a night.

Reid drove them all home, back to their apartments, Morgan being the last to be dropped off. The entire ride he stole glances at his friend. His best friend. The entire ride he waited for him to say something, to tell him what he already knew. Spencer pulled into the driveway and asked him if he needed help getting inside. Morgan shook his head dumbly in shock, grabbed his coat, and told Reid a pleasant "good night" before heading up to his door.

Closing the door behind himself, he heard the SUV drive off. Closing his eyes, he wondered how they'd drifted so far apart. So far that something this big had happened in his life, and he wouldn't tell him. He had listed three reasons why this suspicion was preposterous. Three of the best reasons there could possible be, and they all were just shot to shit.

It only took two letters to confirm a fear that Morgan had long since put to rest in his mind. Just two letters, and the world as he knew it was undone.

The text had been from Hotch. It said "Go."

TBC~

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Small note; to 'silver cab' is an expression used for being a designated driver. It may not be an extremely popular one, but I liked it so I left it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary: Hotch gets sniffed, and things get weird.**

**Warnings: Slash, still PG rated. Last warning to bow out.**

**Disclaimer: Criminal Minds belongs to CBS, not me. I own nothing.**

**Acknowledgments: Thanks to Starofoberon for cleaning up as beta!**

**Exposed**

With two words, he knew he was exposed.

If there was one word he would describe himself as, it would be controlled. He controlled his expressions, a learned trait from when he was younger. His father had beat him for anything that was an inappropriate 'look'. He learned young to control is anger, ever mindful of what a full grown man could do to someone else. What he had done to Foyet was proof of what could happen when he lost hold of who he was trying to be.

He never thought laughing would be on the list of things he needed to keep constraints on as well. He had only laughed. Just a laugh. He never gave a voice to it, never registered it for what it was till it was thrown in his own face. Reflected back at him by eyes there were as shocked as his own. He thought he had everything under control, only to have it inches from him, telling him how wrong he was.

Their movie night had ended with all three of them splayed across the sofa. Aaron grimaced, as he stirred from his sleep, to the sound of knocking. He hadn't intended for a sleep over, but they had all passed out. Wine and turkey were the culprits, he reminisced as he gingerly pulled his body out from under Jack's head and Spencer's foot.

The temperature had dipped last night, leading Jack to produce a blanket from his room as he snuggled between the two, his hands never releasing the bag of dried banana chips. Lifting the now empty bag from his son's sleeping grip, he let himself smile at the memory.

Spencer's gift of dried banana chips for Jack had instantly endeared his son to the man. Spencer was unaware of the extent of Jack's love of bananas, and as of yet he didn't know they came in a chip form. A melding of his two favorite foods. If mac 'n' cheese could be mixed into that concoction, Aaron was sure the boy would never have broken off the ferocious hug he had placed on Spencer's neck. Aaron only intervened when it looked like Reid was having a hard time breathing.

Currently Jack had his foot shoved into Spencer's ribs, as Spencer's head hung back over the edge of the couch, his mouth open as his Adam's apple bobbed. He could swear it sounded like Spencer was saying, "No… more, M&Ms…"

"Kodak moment," Aaron chuckled, wondering if he should snap a picture for Garcia.

A small gasp brought Hotch back from his musings to the present. Jess was in the foyer, a large pan in her arms, her bright eyes looking at them. Aaron put a finger to his lips, waving her to the kitchen where he followed. She smiled brightly, walking the dish over to the counter island.

"I see you had a party last night," Jess whispered to her brother-in-law, her eyes glinting in a way that Aaron had come to determine was almost devious. "I brought over a quiche. I made enough for you and Jack to eat something more healthy then cereal for the next few days at the very least. Good thing too," She commented as she turned to the cupboards, her eyes glinting as they danced into the living room at the sounds of muffled stirring. "Who's you're friend?"

"Spencer Reid," Aaron returned, tossing the empty bag into the trash. "He's an agent from my office," he explained to the continued stare as he opened the cabinet and fished about for the coffee filters. It was too early to decide what had Jess so a-twitter, far too early. More than that, from the sounds of Spencer and Jack waking up in the living room, coffee would be a definite requirement in a few moments.

"Spencer Reid, huh?" Rolling the name around her tongue, her grin becoming even more blinding, if it was possible. "He's really cute," She tipped her head in the direction of the man stumbling into the kitchen. Spencer's hair and clothes were disheveled. "Hi! I'm Jess. Aaron's sister-in-law," She strode forward, grabbing the still half unconscious Reid's hand in a firm shake.

"Um, Spence," he mumbled, rubbing his hand over his face, trying to clear the sleep away. "H-Hotch," He coughed, clearing his throat as he pointed to the door. "Thanks for letting me come over. Sorry I crashed. I'll go. Nice to meet you," His words were disjointed, and he still wasn't seeing straight. Obviously not a morning person. He turned to leave, but was pulled back by his arm, which was still firmly gripped in Jess's hand.

"Oh, I'm sure Hotch will let you eat, and wake up, before you go," Her sweet eyes became a near dagger's glare when she looked to Aaron. Aaron, however, was focused on the percolating liquid in the pot.

Noticing the burning sensation in his back, Hotch returned with a distant, "Huh?"

"That sounded like a 'yes' if ever I heard one," Jess bit back, walking Spencer to a stool about the island. Reid, still part comatose, let himself be led and plopped down without protest. A sweet, "Coffee?" was the first thing he really heard.

"Oh, god, yes!" He never met Jess before, but already this woman was the sweetest thing that was ever born as far as he cared. She decidedly blushed before maneuvering to Aaron, who stood poised to take a sip from a mug he had just poured. Her small hands snatched the cup from his perked lips, leaving him in a stupor. Quirking his brow at her, she give an indignant sigh as she placed the cup in front of Spencer, offering him cream and sugar.

"I need a shower," Hotch sighed, leaving the kitchen toward the master bath. Jess watched him go, as she cut into the quiche.

"I really think I should go," Reid remarked. Though he knew he felt guilty for the theft of Hotch's coffee, he didn't stop sipping it. It was his duty to drink it after that much cream and sugar was added, no one else would… could.

"Nonsense!" Jess stared him down, and Spencer instantly found the cup in his hands far too interesting under that stare. "So, you're Aaron's friend?"

"Co-worker… err, maybe underling is the best way to describe that," Reid mumbled in reply.

"First time I've ever seen someone stay the night," She gave a shy smile to Reid. "I think you're more then colleagues. So, friend?"

Reid gave a slow nod, part of him wondering if this was an interrogation. If it was, the woman needed to be cued in to the fact that you didn't supply the questioned party with the answer you wanted to hear.

"That's good." Her smile grew less blinding and more sincere. "Hotch needs friends. Especially ones that can make him smile."

"Huh?" Was all Reid got out before he felt a small body tackle him about the waist. Luckily he didn't spill the hot drink on the child, but his hand had not been so lucky. Had it not been for his name being hollered at a dead run, things might not have turned out that way.

"Spencer!" Jack breathed, happily hugging his new favorite person. "Can you do that magic again? The one with the tissues?"

Not only had Reid introduced a new favorite consumption last night, he also had displayed a magic trick for the boy. Pulling the DVD he had brought over from the boy's shirt was fairly hard, but rewarding. Rewarding for Jack, as he now had someone who was a magician in the house and it wasn't even his birthday.

"Again?" Reid asked, licking at the spot where the coffee had landed on his hand, the skin pink but not badly burned.

"Magic?" Jess asked, quirking a brow at Reid, whose eyes did a shy smile as they danced between the two very enthusiastic people.

There was no way out.

The shower had helped where the coffee had been denied, and Hotch felt some of the kinks along his back from sleeping on the sofa loosen in the warm flow. Rubbing a towel through his hair, he dressed, and made his way back to the kitchen. The dishes were about, the food still on them, but untouched. A high pitched squeal of delight announced that Jack was awake, and in the living room.

He didn't expect anything, or maybe that was the problem. He hadn't expected Jack's screams of delight to be in the joy of running circles around the room. Nor for there to be Reid sitting in the center of the room, wrapped up in Jacks blanket with several of his belts constricting the small frame.

"Assistant!" Reid injected in a deep voice, "Is the room clear?"

"Yes!" Jack stopped, coming to attention instantly.

"Time?" Reid cocked his head to Jess, who was sitting on the couch, an egg timer poised in her hands.

"Set," She flipped the timer, and Reid stood. They watched as he contorted, twisting his body under the fabric and strapped leather of the belts. In less then fifteen seconds the straps, and the fabric all fell away over his head. Taking his sweater with them. He raised his arms, clad in a button up and did a bow just as the timer dinged.

"See? I told you!" Jack jumped up to Jess, smiling brightly.

"Yes, you did," Jess returned, helping to pick up the props from their magic show. "Oh, Aaron, you missed it!" Jess started, and everyone turned noticing him for the first time. Something Hotch was extremely grateful for.

"Time to eat?" Aaron asked Jack. Jack let out a hefty cheer. Jess and Jack both dragged Reid back to the kitchen. Jess had an arm and Jack had his legs. Reid looked over his shoulder to Hotch mouthing the words, _Help me!_ clearly.

Hotch laughed.

Jess stopped short, looking back over her shoulder in wide eyed disbelief. It wasn't for long, and she continued the lead into the kitchen, dispersing of the egg dish for all. The meal was enjoyable and everyone was having fun. Reid stood to leave at the end, needing to return to his home for a shower and change of clothes. Before he left, Jack grappled him about the legs, insisting that he come back next "movie night." Reid looked to Hotch before giving a hesitant yes, and left.

The door closed behind him. With a promise of help, Jack went back in the living room to clean up for their last magic act. Jess put a hand on Hotch's arm, stopping the man from going with his son.

"Aaron," She smiled sincerely at the man, grasping both of his hands in hers and giving them a reassuring squeeze. "It's good to hear you laugh again. I'm sure ~ I know Haley would be very happy."

Aaron blanched, and turned to leave the woman, to go to Jack but she held him tight, giving one last squeeze to his hands. "Hotch," her voice stern, every effort going into her words, "this is a good thing."

"Jess, please, I don't want to talk about Haley," He turned, free of her grip.

"I'm not talking about Haley!" She had snapped, a hand covering her mouth as she took in the sight of the man before her. "Aaron, you…"

She didn't say it, but it wasn't necessary. They'd known each other for years now, and she didn't need to be a profiler to read him.

He didn't know. He hadn't known. The part of him that did know, the part that registered the weight that had pressed him to the ground the other day, was the part he was trying to block out.

It made him painfully aware of the long fingers that had grasped about his body, franticly, and the harsh labored breath against his neck. The part that watched as the lithe body strained and pulled against the binds around him, skin exposing as the sweater pulled over his head. It was there, and he knew what it was, but it doesn't follow that he had to understand it. That he had to acknowledge it.

He didn't have to say it, and she just stared back at him with dismay. He turned, going to his son and with that he left Jess standing in the foyer.

The woman never spoke to him of it again, thankfully. Spencer continued to return for Fridays when they weren't halfway across the country, and Hotch found the evenings enjoyable. The reactions he had before did not play out again. He had control of himself.

That was until Jess invited him, Jack, and Spencer over for a barbecue. Though it may have seemed odd to invite Reid, Jess had taken an emphatic shine to their genius. When the night had gone on too long, and Reid crashed at Hotch's place, every Saturday they would talk. The days when Reid had gone home the night before, Hotch would silently wish he had stayed. Jess was sweet, but she was decidedly irritable when Reid was not there for their morning chat over coffee.

The party was small, Jess and her husband hosting a few neighbors, and their children, for dinner at a local park. Hotch watched as Jack played tag with the other children. The game of tag had turned into a dog pile on Reid, who had been dragged into the marauding children's war path by Jack. Hotch could have stopped it. But he didn't. The pleas for mercy and help were far too entertaining, and well worth the inevitable ire he'd give Hotch later for sitting there and watching.

Shortly after the food was served, Jess came around with plates for Hotch, Reid, and Jack. She handed them out to him, then lingered as she reach behind him. He felt the water misting against the back of his neck, and caught sight of the spritzer as the arm pulled back. Giving the woman a curious look, she smiled, mentioning it was hot. Hotch shook his head, allowing that Haley's relatives were weird, yet still better then his side of the family.

Hotch called and waved over Jack, and the other children, to eat. Reid, released from the pile of small bodies, stumbled up the hill lead by Jack who kept a firm hold of his hand. Jack informed his dad that they needed to keep an eye on their Spencer, cause the other kids wanted a magician also. The boy's eyes darted about to the other tables. Hotch had relented from his drink at just the right moment, because he nearly had soda coming out his nose at his son's threatening glare to warn off the children around them. Reid huffed, lifting Jack up to set him on the bench seat next to Hotch.

"Glad you can laugh. I think they dislocated my hip," Reid grumbled. He was stooped to lower Jack into the seat, but he stopped, pausing when his head was near Hotch's shoulder. "Did Jess come by?" He whispered, his eyes glancing about the park to find the blond haired woman.

"Yes, she brought our plates," Hotch remarked, sliding Jack's hot dog and potato salad in front of the boy. Reid's eyes narrowed, and when Hotch followed his gaze, he locked onto Jess. She held her plate in one hand, and a glass in the other. She hoisted up her glass in their direction, offering up a salute and a wily grin.

"Uh-huh," Reid remarked. Keeping his eyes on Jess, he reached over Aaron, pulling his plate from across the table and settled down beside the man. To Aaron's chagrin, Reid was not just beside him, he was practically in his lap.

"Reid~" Hotch looked up, about to declare a request for personal space, but Reid snapped him a cold look. "Ah, okay..."

The rest of the evening played out much the same. Wherever Hotch went, there was Reid. Not only was he there, he was like a second skin. His nostrils rising up occasionally, followed by a hand that would wipe at his nose. The serious look never left his face. The second Hotch would open his mouth to say something about the proximity, Reid silently shot him down with a look that demanded silence.

If Hotch didn't know better, and he actually didn't know better, he could swear he felt Reid breathing down his neck the whole night. Being aware of the other man's warm breath prickling against his skin, Hotch only became more aware of how pleasant he was finding the sensation. That fact alone quickly made the pleasant extremely unpleasant, and most definitely not okay. Hours of Reid on the other end of a couch was nothing like having him plastered to Hotch's side for the whole evening.

The dinner finally ended, and they got in the SUV. Jack had already passed out, and Hotch had carefully strapped him into the car seat. When he opened the driver's side door, Hotch breathed out the first sigh of relief he'd had all night.

Reid joined him after saying a longer goodbye to Jess. They hugged, Reid handing her something, and then he opened up the passenger side door. He slammed it, earning a stern look from Hotch. Reid caught the light snoring of Jack and mouthed a silent, _Sorry_.

"Care to tell me what's going on?" Hotch asked. Reid only crossed his arms about his slim frame in silent protest. He grumbled a "Nothing." It was a lie, but the evening had ended, and the man next to him wasn't giving him the time of day, let alone invading the air he breathed. So, it was better then it had been, and Hotch drove them back to his house in comfortable silence.

When they arrived, Aaron unbuckled Jack, lifting him in his arms as he started for the house. "I'll see you tomorrow," He called to Reid in a whisper. Reid's dark eyes were looking at his own car, keys in hand, but he didn't move.

"H-Hey, Hotch," Reid coughed, turning to his boss as he waved his hands between them. "I, uh, forgot something in your place."

Aaron held open the door, letting Reid in as he took his son to his room. Once he'd changed Jack, and tucked him in, he carefully closed the door on his son's room. He turned to head back to the living room to find Reid, but he was right behind him. Hotch jumped, quietly cursing and listening to hear if Jack had woken up.

"Reid, really, what's going~" Reid's dark eyes focused, his hand shoving Hotch back into the wall with a perturbed, predatory look. Hotch was too stunned to move, as the hand pinned him in place. Reid pulled his face up to Hotch's neck. He pressed up close to the man, his eyes half closed as he focused on Hotch's collar. His lips were so close Hotch could feel the air pull around his skin as Spencer breathed him in deeply several times.

"You smell…like you," Reid breathed out, his eyes opening fully as he pulled away enough to look Hotch in the face. "I knew it, she tricked me. She didn't spray any scent on you, did she? Twenty bucks! Sorry Hotch, I…" Reid's voice stopped, caught in his throat as his strong gaze wavered, shaking as he took in the sight before him. "…No way."

TBC~

Next chapter won't be long to get up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary: Reid explains himself, and discovers something he never knew about Hotch.**

**Warnings: Slash, adult themes, yada…**

**Disclaimer: Criminal Minds belongs to CBS.**

**Special Thanks: Starofoberon for being the Beta who deals with the horrible mistakes so you don't have to!**

**The Morning Coffee Couldn't Fix**

Spencer Reid was a genius, but that didn't mean he knew everything. No matter what Morgan said.

He had an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and he was able to read 20,000 words per minute. He also knew that he had little practice in social settings, and an inability to relate to most people in general. People, animals, and small children. How Jack had not been queued into the "Reid Effect" was beyond mystifying.

The game Jess had proposed was simple. She gave him several bottles of body mists to smell, and he was to identify which one she would spray on Hotch. He wasn't allowed to ask Hotch which he was sprayed with.

He tried to reason with Jess that the test had certain uncontrolled variables. They were out doors in an un-isolated environment. Also, the moment the spray touched his skin they would blend with Hotch's naturally secreted sweat, ergo, changing the smell. It would be difficult to detect exactly which scent she had used.

That's what made the game fun, or so she had insisted.

The human sense of smell is tied to the limbic system in the brain. Though he had been tested for an IQ of 187, he'd never had his sense of smell tested. Did it follow that he would also be able to retain the smells provided to him and discern the scent when mixed with other odors? It was a good question. With that, and Jess's taunting against his gifted title of "genius boy," Reid heartily accepted the challenge.

He didn't know if he could win, but he was fairly certain he knew what Hotch smelled like. He was also aware of the possible scents she could use. Filtering out the part that was Hotch should be easy, and she had given him all night to return with an answer.

They each put a twenty on the line.

If there was another point that would make a valid reason to stalk his boss all night, there was the simple reason it gave Reid something to do.

He was aware his proximity was bothering Hotch. That he was well into what people considered personal space. He hadn't intended to stay in his space for too long, just long enough.

There was one problem.

All he could smell was Hotch. The longer he smelled him, the more he couldn't discern any other scent. Was his olfactory perception really that far off? Though he wanted to blame it on Hotch, he couldn't. The man had a nice smell. It wasn't his fault it was distracting Reid.

They had called it a night, and Reid said goodbye to Jess. She quirked a smile at him, and wordlessly he handed her the twenty. She happily accepted the lost wager.

Hotch drove them back to his place, where Reid had left his Volvo. Reid stood there, holding the keys to his car, his mind running it over and over again. All he could smell was Hotch.

That's when it hit him.

When he had Hotch cornered in the hallway, he knew he was right. There was no hiding what he was going to do. He decided on the course of action when he'd determined there was no way Hotch would agree to being sniffed, and partially because he was still angry he'd been duped on the bet. So, he pinned Hotch down, and took several long, deep breaths.

He'd known the answer all along. All he smelled was Hotch, because that's all there was!

He'd pulled away, too pissed at himself for missing the obvious. Somewhere in his ramblings though, it sank in. Hotch was reacting in a very much un-Hotchner way.

His eyes dilated, face flushed, his breath hitching up, and he was actually starting to tremble. With the way he was focusing on Reid's mouth, it looked like Hotch was going to kiss him.

When the older man started to apologize, Reid couldn't help but be shocked. He was apologizing because he found Reid attractive? Somehow Reid found the idea, well, insulting.

Not just that, but Reid should have been the one to apologize. He'd been dogging the man all night long, and then he'd just slammed him into a wall and sniffed his neck. Right outside Jack's room! Not that he had any of that on his mind before hand.

_Hindsight is always twenty-twenty._

"Billy Wilder," Reid remarked, while he continued his study of his feet. The shushing sound from Aaron drew an aggravated sigh.

At the time he had decided to do that, he hadn't been thinking in terms of social proprieties. He kept forgetting the part about where people were involved with his actions and the pre-established social boundaries.

The limbic system, which includes olfactory input, also contains the hypothalamus – the part of the brain that regulates automated nervous functions through the release of hormones. Three of those functions including blood pressure, heart rate, and sexual arousal. It's not so far off then to conclude that because he had nothing but the smell of Aaron Hotchner on his brain all night long, all he could think to do, when the man was back-peddling as fast as he could, was to kiss him.

Or that was what Reid kept telling himself as he examined the threading on his shoes. The part where he actually enjoyed the kiss was not so easily explained. Nor the fact that after Hotch unfroze, his mouth parting and letting Spencer explore the taste further, that the kiss had even gone into a category of more then nice. To use the words Morgan would, "It was damn hot!" Hot, warm, wet, and affecting his hormone generation quite rapidly.

Then Hotch broke the kiss, gently, but firmly, pushing him against the opposite wall. Where he was still standing.

Waiting. Still. Just standing here.

"We could~" Reid started, again, but another stern shush from Hotch and he stopped… again.

Hotch's eyes were moving back and forth, his finger pointing the path from the door to his son's room, to where he currently stood. He would then stop, Reid silently narrated the actions he'd seen four times already. Which he did. He'd take a fluttering glance up Reid's way, which he did, and then rinse and repeat the scenario over again.

"I could pinch you?" Reid smirked, an attempt to lighten the seriously confused look on his boss' face. "Hey, better then a pinch, I could give you a hickey!" Hotch stopped, closed his eyes, and finally gave Spencer one of his best glares. "Ouch." He grimaced silently.

"You kissed me." It sounded like an accusation, and Reid had to hide the flinch. At least Hotch wasn't shushing him again. "Why?"

"I didn't really like where the conversation was headed. I wanted you to shut up," Reid rocked back on his heels. He gave Hotch a hesitant, almost victorious grin, "It worked."

"Reid," Hotch sighed, crossing his arms as he looked down at the floor, "that was a really bad idea." Reid blinked, surprised more by the boss-like tone Hotch was talking in, than the actual words. "Look, I'm sorry. I reacted in an inappropriate way. I'll control myself better in the future, and that," Hotch gestured between them, indicating their short lived kiss, "will never happen again."

"You don't even want to talk about it?" Reid swallowed, puzzled at the man. Reid may not know people in general, as far as interacting with them, but he was expert in body language. Aaron Hotchner was attracted to him. He was given every signal, and he couldn't have misread him. The fact that he hadn't known until now was only a sign of how amazing his boss was in controlling his reactions. If he intended to control himself even more, then what was he going to do? Play dead for the rest of his career?

"There's no conversation to have," Hotch stated flatly, giving Reid the _that's final _look. He lifted himself off the wall, uncrossed his arms and turned to leave the hall.

"Like hell there's not!" Reid closed the distance, bracing his arm across Hotch's path. Hotch gave him a very curious, surprised look. Reid understood why. He wasn't usually this forward about anything, and most definitely not ballsy enough to get in Hotch's way.

Usually.

He had his moments. Anger fueled moments. Said moments often ending badly, and this would probably get chalked up to just another one of those.

However, Spencer was right, and he knew it. It was like dealing with Jess's trick all over again. Leaning in, he moved his face up to Hotch's, stopping just a hair away from contact. He kept his gaze locked on him, on his eyes as he watched the pupils dilate. He could hear the breathing increase, saw Hotch swallow harshly.

"Yeah, I'm so right." Reid breathed, before releasing Aaron, grinning to himself pleasantly. "You could brew up a pot, and we'll actually talk instead of you dictating to me?" Reid suggested to Hotch's troubled look. The elder man shook his head, before he gave a small nod. Reid let Hotch lead the way to the kitchen. It was his house after all. That and Reid wanted to see how much he could appreciate his current view. Hotch in jeans…

As Aaron prepped the coffee, pulling out the cups, Reid took the time to analyze his boss from a desirable stand point. He was not unaware that Hotch was a good-looking man, but hadn't taken the time to truly appreciate just how handsome he was. A dopey smile was pulling at his lips when Hotch looked over his shoulder. Hotch's eyes flashed him that warning stare. Coughing into his hand Reid diverted his gaze.

A warm mug was placed in front of him, along with the sugar dispenser, and Reid began the art of sweetening.

"I'm straight," Hotch started, looking Reid in the eyes.

"Join the club," he returned, stirring the sweetener in. "That doesn't really fly in this case, or there wouldn't be an issue." He waved his hands between then, motioning for Hotch to bring it on.

"I'm your boss." The way he said that was even more severe then the first defense. Go figure that Hotch would take honoring his duty to uphold the rules above his assumed sexual orientation.

He was so damn honest it was adorable. Because it was, Reid just chuckled, feeling the heat rise to his face. Yeah, that excuse wasn't going to work for Aaron either. Hotch looked about ready to panic when Reid laughed.

"Reid, I don't do one night stands," He almost dropped his cup on the counter island between them.

"And you think I do?" Reid felt, and heard, his voice go up an octave.

"Well… No." Hotch amended honestly after a short bit of thought. "What I'm trying to say, Reid, is that we couldn't possible act on this. I find you very…" He fumbled with his words, "What I'm saying is that no such relationship could happen. I wouldn't want a one-time fling. That would mean dating. You're my subordinate. I'm your boss. It's unethical. It's not fair to you, or the team. I don't want to resign as the Supervisory Agent, and I like working with you and everyone else. I don't want either of us to transfer to another unit. I can't date you."

"Technically you already have," Reid hide the smile as Hotch blanched. "For a couple weeks now, I guess. Hotch, you are the most absolutely reasonable and evenhanded man I have ever known. Would knowing that I actually like you really affect your judgment any differently in the field? Because, hey, Hotch, I like you!"

"God, you want me to quit," Hotch rubbed his hands over his face, but not before the shocked look and blush had hit his facade. "Maybe talking wasn't such a good idea."

"Okay, this isn't exactly something I had planned for tonight. Or ever," Reid started, but Hotch cut him off.

"Then why are you forcing this?" Hotch almost sounded desperate.

"Because," Reid looked down at his cup, swirling the coffee about. "I mean, you're a very good-looking guy. You're smart, dedicated, probably the most honest person I know, and you make me feel like a normal person when I'm around you. You care about everyone you work with, even on a personal level. I respect you. You don't treat me differently then everyone else, or like I'm a child, which I'm not. You know what I have to deal with at work, and most of my personal problems. Yet, you're still willing to spend time even outside of work with me even knowing all that. Also you know just how horribly I can~"

"Reid." Hotch raised his hand, gently silencing the man.

"…ramble when I'm nervous," He smiled taking a sip of his coffee. In truth he didn't know why he was being so insistent with Hotch, or the reasons he could so easily return the attraction for him. That was until they all came spilling out. Maybe it was because he never allowed himself to think that there was any possibility of a relationship with Hotch more than as co-workers?

The part were Hotch was his boss wasn't as much of an issue for Reid. The sexuality didn't bother him, as Reid always figured he'd end up loving someone because of who they were, not what sex they were. He'd assumed it would be a woman, but he didn't care if it was a man. Then there was the fact that when they first met, Aaron had been a very happily married man. The last point, in all of this, was that people like Aaron Hotchner did not look at a geeky, awkward genius like Spencer Reid. Except, just a little bit ago, Aaron had.

There were more reasons to validate the feeling of butterflies in his stomach right now as well. Many more. Spencer was content though to just grin to himself and silently continue down the list of things he liked about the older man.

"I'm flattered, really," Hotch flushed a little, and Reid took that as a good sign, "but my position as your boss still makes it a moot point."

"Hotch, I don't want you to quit as Supervisor to the team," Reid sighed, wondering how best to get the man before him to yield. "I'm not outgoing. I don't like sharing my personal life with anyone, and I have no intention of telling them that I want to shag you."

"You want me to lie?" Hotch asked, his tone indignant. Reid growled in frustration. Any other guy would have focused on the sex part of what he had just said. Not Aaron Hotchner.

"Technically it's not a lie if you don't tell anyone!" He started, his irritation growing as his hands started to find a life of their own. "I don't have a lot of experience with relationships, and, no, I don't want a one-night stand. I want to be wined and dined like anyone else!

"But, did you know, 52% of people employed are asked out by someone they work with, and 40% of people have, or had, a work relationship? Roughly 20% of people actually find a spouse in their working environment. Though the numbers vary based on region, age, and highly vary on if the person is attending college or not. The place where you experience a majority of your social interactions is usually in your place of work. All those figures are based on people who work roughly forty hours a week, but the numbers increase when they reach fifty hours.

"In case you haven't noticed, Hotch, you spend more than that in the office. Even more, if you factor in time when we're working a case, and I'm not much off that mark either. Deciding that there's someone whom I've already spent years in their company, who knows my quirks and is okay with them, and seeing them as being a potentially very good, and attractive romantic partner isn't~"

The kiss was well timed. Reid didn't see it coming because he had long since taken off on his tangent. Surprise melted into relaxation as Spencer closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of Aaron's lips softly pressed to his own. The tongue that danced on his lower lip surprised him into opening his mouth, and the kiss deepened. Facts and statistics were forgotten as his mouth was invaded and explored slowly. Aaron's mouth tasted like the coffee in his hands.

His own heart rate was increasing, his breath hitching up, and everything turning fairly fuzzy when the kiss ended. Reid resisted the urge to follow those retreating lips and tongue. Instead he went with licking the taste on his lips, and trying to recollect his scattered thoughts.

"Reid?"

"Uh-uh," Reid hushed Hotch, placing a finger to his own lips. He was not saying a word until he could think straight. This was an important conversation and he wasn't going to mess it up, not like he always messed up interpersonal communications.

Reid worked his brow, focusing his eyes as he blinked. He was aware Aaron was still standing across the counter from him. There was no mistaking the very smug look across Aaron's face, even though he tried to hide it by sipping his coffee.

"Y-you," Reid cleared his throat, trying to bring it down to an un-pitched level. "You kissed me." He gave Hotch a fairly undignified look. Spencer had a point to make and now he couldn't remember where he left off!

"I wanted you to shut up." Hotch tried, and failed, to hide the chuckle that boiled into a deep laugh that rocked his frame. He was laughing so hard, he actually had to put the coffee cup he was holding down so he wouldn't spill it. After he regained his composure, he gave Reid a light hearted smile.

"It's late," Aaron commented, still keeping the warm smile. Reid could feel the butterflies in his stomach picking up tenfold, as if they had received a shot of adrenaline. He could forgive his own logic being used against him, he supposed. If it made Aaron laugh, or smile like this, then it was defiantly worth it. That and said current tactic was a kiss. Yes, it was definitely worth it. "Why don't you go home. Think about this a little more, and see how you feel in the morning."

Reid blinked at Hotch. Then blinked again. "You know retrieved memories are processed up to seven times faster in your sleep?"

Hotch blinked at Reid. Then blinked again. "No, or I didn't."

"Even so, the speed of cognitive thought processes is tied to a person's IQ," Reid hinted, and Hotch stared him down. "Worth a shot," He grumbled, handing Aaron the empty mug and standing. "What if I don't change my mind?"

"Then don't change your mind," Hotch said over his shoulder, rinsing the cups before leading Reid to the door. "I won't make another advance on you. If you decide against it, that's fine. We don't have to~"

Spencer's mouth pressed into his, and the body that followed, silenced Hotch on the spot. He was holding open the door, but it was quickly forgotten as the tongue of the younger man reciprocated the demand for entrance Hotch had shown it. Hotch's hands slid up the thin frame, sliding behind Spencer's long, arched neck as the kiss continued. One of them moaned into the kiss, but neither could have said who it was.

Reid was the one to relent, a chuckle bubbling in his throat as he pulled away. "I think I'm going to like this game," he mused, eyes glinting wickedly at Aaron as he gave a small, palmed wave goodbye.

Reid did as Hotch asked. He slept on it. The idea proved even more tempting as the dreams he had were born of their kisses and the feeling of Aaron's body against his. Reid couldn't wait to inform Hotch just how astray his plan for defusing the situation had gone.

That was his plan, until he saw Aaron that morning. Hotch strutted into the office, gave a small nod, the hints of a smile in his eyes, with a welcoming "Good morning," thrown Reid's way.

Reid stopped, dropped the pen he had been dancing through his fingers, and his jaw went slack as Hotch continued to his office per normal fashion. It was normal, just as it always had been. Nothing was different today, than it had been yesterday, or the day before that. In fact, this had been standard for a very, very long time.

Reid hadn't expect Hotch to behave differently then he always had, but he hadn't expected…this. That he would register the warm smile in his eyes that was directed at him, the soft caring in his voice as he wished Reid a good morning, and dear god! This wasn't new at all. Not for Hotch!

Reid buried his face in his hands, groaning as he was sorely tempted to slam his head into his desk a few times. He'd never seen it. He was an expert on body language and about ready to renounce the claim and drop his title from expert to novice.

"Oh, hey pretty boy! What's got you looking so down this early?" Morgan's jubilant greeting only earned a moan. "You had your coffee yet?"

"I was just thinking," Reid grumbled, keeping his face buried, "I'm an idiot."

"What are you talking about? You know freakin' everything," Morgan returned, patting his friend on the back. "Here, hold up and I'll grab you a cup of mojo. You'll perk up, or I hope for your sake you do. Day's just started, kid!" Morgan dropped his brief case on his desk, and went to the break room to fetch Reid a cup of the one thing that usually made him feel better. It wasn't going to work this morning though.

Spencer Reid was a genius, but that didn't mean he knew everything. No matter what Morgan said.

TBC~

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Thank you to everyone who reviewed! It's defiantly inspiring me to not sleep much. This really is a thank you, I promise.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary: Fallout**

**Warnings: Slash, one should be over age 14 for this.**

**Disclaimer: Criminal Minds belongs to CBS. Baby Jack-Jack and Syndro are from the movie The Incredibles, and belong to DreamWorks.**

**Special Thanks: Again, Starofoberon on Beta, you rock!**

**Smelling Flowers**

The week continued as usual. Reid attended a lecture with Rossi, Derek ducked a still perturbed Kevin around Garcia's office, and Prentiss and JJ talked about getting their legs waxed on the weekend. Normal things. Friday Reid asked Hotch if he could still come over for their now regular movie night. Hotch affirmed the invitation still stood.

Aaron wasn't surprised that nothing became of their wayward excursion last weekend. This was what he wanted, for nothing to change. Yet, oddly, he felt the disappointment as though he had expected something different. They'd only kissed. Just three, very sweet, awkward, deep, mind-fogging kisses.

He coughed lightly into his hand; his throat was drying at the memory. Lifting the glass from the lamp stand beside the couch, he took a sip and tried to focus on what was important to him. Reid gave him a raised brow, but Jack snuggled in closer to his father's chest. On the screen baby Jack-Jack was turning into a molten ball of fire in Syndro's arms.

No, he wouldn't think about what could have been. This was good too, and for the best. Having Reid over gave Jack even more to look forward to each weekend. Hotch had even taken the precaution to tell Jess politely, yet firmly, to butt-out. She accepted, but insisted that her weekend coffee dates with Reid were not something she would relinquish.

Hotch also had conceded the fact that he just liked having Reid here.

So when the movie ended, and Jack protested going to bed, Aaron smiled, but led him into his bedroom. A hug, glass of water, and two butterfly kisses later the boy was tucked in. When Aaron came back Reid was placing his own movie into the DVD player. That was usual. Aaron was relieved that Spencer wasn't bolting for the door. The worst outcome would have been Reid avoiding Hotch.

Going for a refill of his drink, he asked the younger man if he would like anything. His dark brown eyes gave Hotch an odd look, but he shook his head no. He gave Hotch a sincere, "Thanks, though."

The young profiler returned to his seat on the couch, waiting for the movie to start when Hotch joined him. Everything was back to normal.

"So, what did you bring this time?"

Reid still had the DVD case in his hands, flipping it around with his long fingers, but his face held a strong look of dismay. "_The Notebook_." The way he said it, it was clear he was simply reading off the title. Hotch blinked. Reid always produced a science fiction title.

"I didn't think you would own that," Hotch shook his head, rubbing his jaw line. He wasn't looking forward to sitting through this movie. Again. He'd been forced to endure it numerous times with Haley.

"I don't," Reid gave Hotch an wide, hesitant smile. "I also already know how it ends, courtesy of Prentiss."

"Prentiss?"

"Yeah, she and JJ were talking about movies that were _just, so romantic_. This one had Prentiss practically in tears recalling it." Reid set down the case, sliding down the space between them on the couch. His long fingers firmly secured a hand in Hotch's shirt and pulled the man closer.

Hotch froze like a deer caught in the headlights. Reid grunted at the startled look, blowing at a stray lock of brown hair that had fallen in his face. Spencer actually produced a warning glare that, on some level, made Aaron Hotchner proud.

"…All right." Aaron relaxed, lowering his arms down from the up-above-his-head position they were currently occupying. It was apparently the right course of action as the man staring him down instantly smiled and snuggled against Hotch's ribs. Once Reid was comfortable, he curled up his legs, and rested an arm across the warm body he was nuzzled into.

"If it sucks, can we change it to my backup plan?"

"Backup plan?" Hotch asked, somehow able to speak although he was fairly certain this was what anaphylactic shock had felt like. He did know, after all. Reid turned his brown eyes up, a hesitant smile on his face.

"I also brought _The Abyss_," He hummed, nuzzling back down. "I find that movie has certain elements of romance as well."

Torn between telling the man at his side that he really would rather watch _The Abyss_ than _The Notebook_, or keeping quiet and enjoying the feeling of warmth pressed into his side, Aaron went with the path of least resistance.

It could have been the long day in the office, or running around with Jack at the park, or maybe it was a week's worth of pent-up stress. Aaron didn't know, but shortly after the movie started, well, that was it. He awoke the next morning held by strong arms while a finger tapped his forehead. Trying to work the sleep from his eyes, the first thing he saw was an ear-to-ear Cheshire cat grin. Jessica was leaning over his face, her eyes gleaming brightly.

"Such a good morning," She whispered quietly, her voice quivering, a giggle threatened to break each word. Hotch felt the body against his move, a mumbled, "Mmhm, n' toast…"

"Jess," Aaron flattened out the greeting, also in a whispered hush. His stoic expression only escalated her soft giggles.

"'Don't interfere,' he said," Jess spoke a little louder when she was out of arms reach. She continued to imitate his voice through the restrained laughs as she entered the kitchen, "'I don't want help,' he said."

Oh it was going to be a long, long morning.

As long as it was, it didn't last. Spencer left shortly after saying hello to Jess, a lecture he and Rossi were suppose to attend this weekend pulling him away. Reid called him Sunday evening from the hotel for an awkward, at first, then more eased conversation.

Monday Hotch awoke and actually had to resist the urge to smell the posies in his garden path.

Shaking his head at himself, he gathered up all semblance of his normal visage and got in his car. On the drive to the office, and all the way until the elevator doors opened on the BAU floor, he continued a silent mantra.

'I am _not _a closet romantic. I am not a closet romantic.'

The morning began per the norm – far too much so, because there was a new case. A short time later they were on the jet, headed to Nebraska. An UNSUB had been abducting children from foster homes, keeping them for a day, then killing them in ways that even had Rossi closing his eyes in disgust. In under a week, they captured him, but it seemed too little, too late.

There were three dead children the police were aware of when the team arrived, but the body count hit eleven before they left. They lost two after starting the case, the others were 'runaways' who hadn't run away. Children missing and unreported by their foster families. The flippancy of the care for these young children hit the team hard. Reid sat across from him on the flight home. A book was in his hands, but the pages didn't do their usually every two second flips. His dark eyes were lidded, but Reid was focused on the man across from him.

That was the first time Reid had ever let their private life enter into the Bureau's time. He was worried about Hotch. It wasn't news to anyone that cases where the victims were children took a particularly hard toll on their supervisor. Knowing that Spencer noticed though gave Aaron a small comfort through the long flight. Hotch gave Reid a small, affectionate smile in return. Aaron wished he could hold the man who so close to him, to sink into the comfort offered there, but he wouldn't and they both knew it.

Before they landed, Reid handed him the book, making a point to ask him what he thought. A note between the creased pages read 'Can I come over?' Hotch handed it back to Reid, saying he concurred with the author.

Aaron was desperate to get back to Jack. He needed pick his son up in his arms and hug him fiercely. He also suspected Reid needed the same comfort. To see that a child in his life was still all right. They were in the SUV heading back to the Quantico when Rossi broke the team's several hour long silence, one that had prevailed the entire jet ride, with, "I need to get wasted!"

Not much longer after that Prentiss and Morgan were clamoring for booze. It was a quick fix to drown out what they had seen. JJ insisted that, "This Mama is going home to her boys."

"Hotch?" Rossi asked, though no one protested when he said that he needed to get Jack from Jess's house.

"Well Reid will come, won't you Reid?" Prentiss asked the boy sandwiched uncomfortably between Rossi and Derek. Reid frowned, quirking his brow at Prentiss.

"Prentiss, you're reacting as though it is a given answer learned through past repetitions. Do I ever 'want' to go out drinking with you guys?"

Hotch let out a sigh as they pulled into the parking garage at Quantico. Reid was going to get gang bullied into going. They were his friends. Though they were, as of this moment, picking on him, they needed him. No one would admit to it, but each member of the team in their own way took to Reid like the younger sibling they never had. After just finishing a case where young children were slaughtered, the closest thing they had to innocence born in flesh was Reid. They weren't wrong either. He was extremely innocent, despite his knowledge, the nature of their field, or how deviated from normalcy he was. Maybe it was because of that.

Hotch waited until he was in his car before pulling out his phone. Morgan was jabbing Reid in the ribs, while Prentiss wrapped her arms around his elbow, pulling lightly on his frame. Rossi didn't ask, but he was keeping a smile and eyes locked on Reid, as though challenging him to _not _give in.

Hotch sent a text to Reid, _Go_, and when the young genius pulled his phone out of his pocket, his shoulders slumped. Hotch wanted to kick himself. Spencer held his coat up in the air, his arm doing a distinctive wave for Hotch's benefit before the group left the reflection of his rear visor.

That night Hotch stayed beside Jack's bed, reading _The House That Had Enough_ for his bedtime story. His son had asked where Reid was, a question that occurred more and more frequently on nights that weren't Friday. Hotch explained that Reid had other "children" who needed him at the moment. The jealousy Jack Hotchner produced as he hugged his stuffed rabbit, glaring at the window as tears came from his big eyes, was enough to bring the ghost of the smile he tried to keep alive back to his lips.

"Daddy, I told you," Jack looked emphatically at his father, "to keep an eye on my Spence. The other kids learn he's a magician, and they're going to take him away!"

"Jack…" Hotch scooped his son in his arms, wiping at the clear trails down his cheeks, "Spencer is a good guy, right?"

"Huh? Uh, you mean like you?" Jack asked, cocking his head to the side, "Like how he stops bad guys with you?"

"Well, he does do that. I'm actually talking about Spencer as a person. He's a good guy, right? He's nice?"

"Oh, yeah, of course," Jack stated and deadpanned his father with a look that begged, _you have to ask_?

"There are other people who think that too, and right now they're all really sad. Spencer is trying to cheer them up."

"But," The boy gave his father a serious look, "He won't forget about me will he?"

"It's not possible to forget about you Jack," Aaron smiled softly as he kissed his son's head. "Now, go to sleep, and I'll make sure to let Spencer know you asked about him."

He stood to leave, but a small hand caught his, and Hotch stilled as blue eyes found him, "Those people, they're all sad…like Daddy's sad?"

"Yes, Jack." The pang of regret hit Aaron like a bullet.

Jack didn't always say what he knew, but he always knew more then he said. The words he had used as code for the boy to explain what he did were all coming back at him through the mouth of his child. A child who knew right now his dad, and everyone else was sad because of work. Because something went wrong. Aaron hated himself for letting his son ever see him reflect the job back in their home. Now, he was doing it through the code Aaron was unaware he'd taught the boy.

"Then Spencer's sad too!" Jack pulled himself out of bed, grabbing hold of his father's waist.

Hotch had wanted to shelter the dark side of his job, the world, from Jack. There was no "winning" a case, because every single file and request that crossed their desks only happened after someone had died. That, sometimes, when they were off fighting the "bad guys," things didn't go well. Sometimes they handled cases involving children, and any world that could allow for such horrible things to befall such innocents was more then he could bear.

That after such cases he would come home, hug Jack, and wish he never had to let him out of his sight, let alone leave the house.

"Daddy, it's okay to be sad. That's what Mommy used to tell me." The boy continued hugging his father, and Aaron returned it as strongly as was given.

"She was right, but your hugs make it better." Aaron told his son the truth as he knew it.

Aaron returned his son to his bed, pulled up the covers, and stayed until he fell asleep. Eventually, when Jack's eyes shifted under closed lids, Aaron pulled himself up from the floor and went to his den. Pulling up his briefcase onto the wooden desk, he cringed as he pulled at the manila folders. He still needed to finish the report for the case, but even holding the collected information and pictures felt as if it were making his hands burn. Sighing, he pushed the hyper-imagination from his mind and began writing up the accumulation of eleven children's deaths.

He loved his job, because the alternative was letting people who could do these things continue unabated.

Putting the last of the details down, Aaron jumped when his cell began to vibrate on his desk. When he picked up the phone, a text message greeted him. Reid had sent a short, 'RU awake?' Shaking his head, he checked the time. It was after two in the morning. Return dialing brought a few rings and a very non-drunk sounding, "I didn't think you would be asleep yet."

"No, I was working on the report," Aaron returned, finishing the last bits and closing the file.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't know you were busy," Reid mumbled back in apology.

"I just finished," Hotch related as he stood, turning off the light to the den, "Are you still out with the team?"

"Naw, they didn't take long to get hammered since they started off with several shots at once." There was a short, almost maniacal laugh, "They're all going to be so hung-over tomorrow. It should be a good time to show them the film and findings from the conference on Methodology and Psychology of Arsonists and Bombers from last week."

Aaron paused in the hall, fighting off the chuckle in his throat, "There are explosions in this film then?"

"A few small test cases, and some computer generated examples, but their sound effects will definitely strike a chord."

_Or their heads_, Hotch silently added. "Reid, I never knew you were so evil."

"It's not evil, it's justifiable revenge! I'm taking a stand for designated drivers everywhere."

"Where are you now?" Aaron asked as he checked the clock again.

"Well… Where do you want me to be?" His tone was devious, as if he already knew the answer.

"Would it sound too cliché if I said I wished you were here?" Covering his face with his free hand, Aaron was starting to believe he really was a closet romantic. He was definitely a closet something.

"If I was completely honest with you, I'd have to say that, yeah, it does. Will it sound stalker-ish if I tell you to come to your front step?"

"…Are we being honest?" Aaron walked to his front door, opening it he was actually surprised to find a lanky body dressed in a brown knit sweater sitting on the stoop of his front door.

"No, actually, don't be honest," Reid mumbled, shutting the phone off as he looked up to the dropped jaw on Hotch's face. Quickly, long fingers turned the device back on. A shutter sound snapped Hotch's jaw back up.

"You took a picture?" He asked Reid as he in turn shut his own phone off. He was stating the obvious, but it was past two a.m. That, and it's not often you ask for what you want, and then get it. Delivery would have a whole new meaning for him.

"I don't think I've ever seen this expression on you," Reid hummed, smiling to himself as he admired the captured moment. "Kind of surprising when you consider for how long I've worked with you."

"Do you want to come in?" Hotch finally asked when he realized he must have been staring for too long. Reid's eyes said yes, so did the upturned smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, but he shook his head no.

"It's late, I just wanted to see you," He stood, keeping his eyes to the ground as he brushed the dirt from the seat of his pants. "You look better now, so I'll go."

"You came to see me," Aaron remarked, crossing his arms, "but right now you're doing a really good job of not looking at me."

Reid turned up his face, a melancholy darkening the depths of his eyes, "Well, yeah, maybe," he mumbled, his finger rubbing his upper lip in thought as he examined his shoes. "It's just… Am I really like a stalker? This can't be normal, right? Sounds like the start of a horror movie really, 'Answer your door.' No, it's definitely not right. Actually I remember when we were in Arizona and this woman was being stalked~"

Hotch sighed as Reid rambled on. It was his best defense when he became uncomfortable. Sliding his phone into his pocket, he reached out, grabbing Reid's tie, and pulled him into the house, and into a kiss. The startled meep and choking sounds were quickly replaced with a deep moan.

Reid tentatively returned the kiss, but soon took it over. They were stumbling back, and Aaron had only been aware enough to push on the door, grateful when the sound of closing registered. Limbs, hands, and bodies entangled, pushing back into the house. Aaron stumbled backwards, his legs hitting the edge of the couch. Reid followed, allowing only enough time for the fall to separate from locked lips, but he quickly resumed again once the two were in something of a stable position.

The kiss became almost bruising, but Aaron didn't try to break it. He'd never seen Reid like this. Reid was devouring his mouth, crushing his lips under his own. His own hands had come up to capture the thin frame pressed into him, pulling him even closer. A heat burned in Aaron's belly, his own arousal was what eventually brought him back to his senses. He gently pushed Reid back. They both breathed heavily as Hotch looked into the younger profiler's eyes.

"There's a regulation on intra-team profiling," Reid growled, but kept his gaze locked onto Hotch's eyes.

"Reid, what's wrong?" Aaron finally asked when he was sure he had the breath for it.

"Nothing," Reid quipped back, moving to capture the older man's mouth once more, but now Aaron couldn't let it drop. He kept his hands pressed against the other man's chest, examining the face before him.

"Reid," Aaron started but a stifled yawn caused both the men to freeze as though plunged into ice water. Pulling back from each other, they hadn't quite managed the act of untangling, Spencer still poised over Hotch, but now he was more over the older man's groin instead of his face, as two small arms reached over the plush backrest of the couch.

"Jack," Aaron whispered, when the small face appeared, eyes blinking sleepily, "Buddy, why are you out of bed?"

Jack gave a mumbled reply, sleepily looking from his dad to Spencer. When his eyes landing on Spencer, the boy returned back to the world. Jack jumped over the couch, landing on his dad's chest. The boy's weight shoved the air right from his lungs, and Aaron had to try to dislocate his body from the two men in his life without hurting either of them. It wasn't easy, but Reid's arms returned Jack's eager hug, and lifted the boy off his father enough that Aaron could roll to the floor.

When his breath had returned, some coughing later, Hotch looked up to the sounds of sniffling. Jack was gripped tightly about Spencer's neck, crying into the startled genius' chest. Reid's eyes sent a pleading look to Hotch, confusion painted clearly across his features. Hotch could only return it for his own.

"J-Jack?" Reid stuttered, trying to pull the boy off his neck when the sobs dissipated some, "What's wrong?" Reid ran his fingers under the boy's eyes, wiping away the tears that still left hot trails down the young face.

"You!" Jack cried, shaking his head as his small hands wiped about his face. "You're hurt."

"What? No, Jack, I'm not hurt," Reid placated, pleaded with the sympathetic boy, all the more confused now. Jack's whimpers died as he turned once sad, now angry eyes at the man before him. Reid never expected to get the boy's small fist hitting him in the chest.

"Don't lie! You're sad, just like Daddy was when he came back," He glared at Reid, his little shoulders shaking, "Jess says it's okay to be sad, but you have to tell people. So they can help you."

"I~," Reid's eyes wavered, his voice following their lead. He had no words to give to the outburst.

"When you're sad, you need hugs to make it better," Jack quirked a brow at Reid, breathing in as he explained it to the genius. He took on the air of an adult, and odd resemblance to Aaron's lecturing voice in his tone. From Aaron's vantage point, from the floor, it was as though their roles had reversed. For his part, Reid was listening as though they had. "It's okay to be sad, but if you don't say it no one will know you need a hug."

"You're right," Reid relented, nodding in understanding. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and when they opened again they had water pooling in their depths. "I'm sorry Jack. I am sad… It was, hard, recently, at work." Jack, calm and collected, reached up and continued to give his hug to the young genius. Reid returned it, all the while fighting back the urge to take up the job of crying as well.

Hotch watched the exchange, and let the knowledge of what lay in that dark look in Spencer's eyes, the hunger in his kisses, hit him like a ton of bricks. It hurt, and it should. He should have seen this, should have known the moment Reid said he was on his stoop.

It was still the case. It haunted them all, and Reid was no different. Reid wanted to be with family as much as everyone else had. To know that innocents still existed untouched by the horrors of the world. He asked Hotch if he could come over, partially because he was concerned, but also because he _wanted _to.

In the end they all used him. Hotch as well. He was a surrogate brother, genius protégé, and new lover. Those were the roles Spencer Reid played for them. There were always things Reid did with the group, because the group wanted him there. The things that interested Reid were never on the list though. Why he put up with it, Aaron couldn't say.

It was the reason why Aaron had invited Reid over in the first place. Why he promised to watch whatever he wanted to bring over. Though he wished he was innocent of using the younger man, he knew he wasn't.

He wanted to think he gave something back for all the warmth Reid gave him, but it felt like he couldn't give as much as he received. He wanted to show Reid just how much he cared for him, but in doing that wasn't he also only using Reid again? Though now it was worse, because he desired him, his body, his mind?

A foot kicking his knee returned him to the present, and (thankfully) from his own self deprecations. Spencer jerked his head at the prone form still gripped about his neck, a small smile playing on his lips.

Hotch found it hard to breath, because the smile had not only pulled gently on his mouth but reached into those dark brown eyes. Another cliché thing to do would be remarking on how they lit up like stars dancing in the heavens, so Aaron didn't comment. Instead he pulled himself off the ground, and helped Reid to disentangle the small form from his body. Silently wondering if Jack was a sleep walker, Aaron carried the boy back to his bed. Pressing a kiss to his son's forehead, he whispered how proud he was before leaving the sleeping form.

Returning to the living room, Aaron found Reid stretching. For the first time Hotch let himself admire the view. "Tired?" He asked, getting a chuckle as Spencer gave a sleepy nod, adjusting his tie back to normal.

"Yeah, but," he turned his face away, running his long fingers through his hair, "I feel a lot better." When his eyes returned back to Hotch, once more Aaron thought his breath had been knocked from his chest. They were bright, no longer clouded and dark with unspoken pain. "I'm heading home, before I get too sleepy."

"You could stay," Hotch offered, blinking at his own forward response. "Well," He coughed into his hand, "logically it is the practical thing to do."

"Yeah," Reid returned, but shook his head, "except my go-bag is full of dirty clothes, and I'm _not _showing up at work tomorrow in one of your suits."

Part of Hotch was relieved, but the rest was left with disappointment. Aaron followed Reid to the door, where Reid paused, stealing his mouth playfully before leaving. Watching until his Volvo drove off, Aaron quickly decided a cold shower would be best before going to bed.

That was how it all began. Or that is where it started. Maybe it was before even their regular weekend dates. The point would be hard to trace, but it was of little consequence. It didn't matter when it had begun, where it started, not for them anyway. It was where they were now.

Aaron Hotchner decided firmly that he liked where they were, and wanted very much to continue wherever this path might lead. Even if said path meant stopping on the way to his car, bending down, and smelling the posies. He could learn to handle being a closet romantic. Maybe.

Of course, that was his determination for the day. When the elevator doors to the BAU opened, the sight of a very agitated subordinate greeted his sight. Derek Morgan stood just outside the glass swinging doors of the bullpen. Derek's dark eyes locked onto Hotch the moment the elevator had opened, a quick cue that he had been waiting for him. It was still early, many had yet to arrive, but he held a look that spoke as if he'd waited for Aaron all night long.

"Hey, Hotch," Morgan waved Aaron over, "I got something I need to talk with you about."

TBC~

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I got nothing to add, but the next one will be up soon-ish.


	5. Chapter 5

Summary: Morgan responds with…

Warnings: Some slash, language, oh adult themes.

Copyrights: Criminal Minds belongs to CBS, not me. I can wish though.

Special Thanks: Starofoberon, like, really, thank you. I can't say it enough.

**Butterfly Effect**

Hotch watched as Morgan lay in the center of his backyard, tied up in ropes and a sheet. Aaron didn't bother to hide the grin. In fact he let it go deeper. A swat on his arm brought his attention back from the lovely sight of Derek being tied up by his son, to Jess. The woman set a platter of vegetables out on the patio table, scrunching her face as she gave Aaron a condescending eye.

"Aaron," she said snippily, stirring the dip once more before pulling the spoon out, "I really must say when I said I wanted you to smile more, that _that_," She pointed accusingly at his face, "is NOT what I meant. You'll scare someone to death with that," she grumbled, heading back into the kitchen. Reid popped out of the sliding doors a moment later, giving the grumbling form of Jess an odd look as she passed by him.

"What was that about?" he asked Hotch, setting down the plates and forks that laden his arms.

"Nothing," Aaron gave Reid his best, most non-evil smile, and stood to direct his attention to the burgers grilling off the side of the patio. Reid moved to follow him beside the grill, but Morgan called his name in a desperate plea for help. Reid huffed as he moved across the lawn. Hotch kept his eyes on the patties, but his attention was on Reid's voice explaining to Jack that Derek was most definitely not a magician.

The sliding door opened once more, and Hotch had to close his eyes as even more voices filled the space around him. He slowly breathed out, counting to ten and willing himself to relax.

"Now I don't know how you folks do things up here," Will's southern drawl piped up behind Hotch, "But we in the south would call those things well on the way to the road kill crispy side."

"Oh, no, it's not just something isolated by geographical locations," Rossi stood beside Hotch, taking the spatula from his hands. "They're burning by our standards as well."

"Hey." Reid appeared again on the patio, Jack walking rather triumphantly by his side. "Someone needs to untie Morgan."

"What?" Prentiss questioned humorously, quirking up her brow. "I would think as a magician you wouldn't need help."

"Being able to practice the finer arts does not mean you can get people out of," A finger pointed off toward a bundled-up Derek sitting in the yard, "that…_thing_."

"I'll do it," Garcia responded, setting down her lemonade, "I have some experience with these things."

"I don't even want to know what that means," JJ murmured to Prentiss as she set the table.

"Meat is done," Rossi announced as he and Will turned back from the grill, burgers poised on plates triumphantly.

"Rather on the well-done side, technically," Will added, clearing a spot amongst the dishes scattered about the patio table. Hotch looked at Will, and he didn't think it was a bad look, but Will took a step back. "Though I'm sure they'll be delicious." The blue eyed man smiled at Hotch as he secured a safer location behind JJ.

Within moments they were all sitting about the table. The impromptu event could be deemed a success if you went by the smiles, laughs, and atmosphere of the group positioned in Aaron's back yard.

There was one problem. They were six more people sitting at the table than Hotch had anticipated.

A sideways glance at Reid proved the man was enjoying the event. With one more slow breath and silent count to ten, Aaron tried to let himself relax as well. They were all his friends. It wasn't like he didn't appreciate the time they could spend together where he wasn't their supervisor, where he was just Aaron. However, this wasn't one of those times, thanks to a certain someone.

Looking up from his plate, Derek Morgan sat directly across from him. Garcia had proven good on her word on freeing the man, but he wished she hadn't. Morgan was sipping his drink, his fork playing with the coleslaw JJ and Will had brought over, and he kept a lopsided grin poised directly at Aaron. Hotch leaned back some and continued to eat, but he didn't look away from the bemused look he was receiving. Amused though it would appear to any rational observer, Aaron could read it for what it was. A challenge.

Hotch couldn't credit the insight to his history as a federal profiler. No, this was much simpler than that. Morgan had already laid out his terms this morning. Hotch didn't agree. Now, here they were, the non-blinkers of their group, in a silent staring competition. The worst part of it all was that Aaron would rather be staring at the man beside Morgan. The one from whom Derek had taken that particular seat just a moment ago.

Realizing that to look away would relinquish dominance, Aaron considered merits of the alternative option. Tilting his head slightly, he moved his eyes off Derek and onto Reid's hands as he waved his fork around. Spencer was currently engrossed with Jess and discussing the principles of the butterfly effect theory.

"So, Hotch," Morgan spoke up, a hint of ire in his voice at being ignored, "why do I get the feeling you've been holding out on us?"

Aaron nearly dropped the fork balanced lightly between his fingers. He wasn't labeled Aaron Iceberg Hotchner for nothing though. Instead of acting surprised, he turned a mostly blank look to the man. "Beg your pardon?"

"This baked potato dish is amazing," he hummed, the malice in his eyes not reflected in his tone. "Jess, you cook like this for him all the time?"

Jess blushed, laughed, and waved the question off. "No, not all the time. A bit. Well, you should see what he eats when left on his own! Aaron could subsist on a diet of noodles from now till judgment day."

"I only make what Jack wants to eat," Aaron returned to the woman, but the affection in his voice was real. "Sometimes we have eggs in the morning."

"Instead of cold cereals?" Jess smiled back.

"I did say _sometimes_."

"No wonder Reid comes over to your place," Morgan redirected, and Aaron kept his face blank of everything, literally, when the man spoke. "I would pass up a few weekends going out, if it meant I could enjoy more cooking like this."

"I know how to cook," Reid retorted, seemingly offended. "Knowing how and choosing not to are two completely different things."

Garcia perked up. "If good old fashioned home cooking is what you're looking for, I could show you a thing or two in _my _kitchen."

"Baby Girl, I really think that your boyfriend might not like that so much."

"Phht!" Garcia waved her hand over her shoulder. "it's just cooking, Sugar. Kevin's not nearly as jealous as you make him out to be."

Everyone, even Will, froze from eating and drinking to give the blonde a dumbfounded look. One that begged, _are you serious_? Eventually, they recovered from the moment, and the group returned their interest to what lay on their plates.

The rest of the evening continued without incident, save for the innuendos of Morgan. All of which were lost on everyone – everyone but Aaron. Morgan was baiting him, and instead of rising to the bait, Aaron redirected his attentions to Spencer. This only incited the darker man, and the cycle continued throughout the evening.

When finally JJ mentioned needing to get home and relieve the babysitter, Hotch was already silently betting money that Derek had twenty minutes before he was going to renounce his self-imposed vow of silence.

That morning, Derek had cornered him outside the elevator with the need to "talk." Pressing his subordinate. Aaron had not counted on their discussion revolving around the team's young doctor, but it had.

"I know what's going on, Hotch," Derek said pointblank to the man the second the door to his office closed. Aaron had quirked a brow at him, confused because he truly did not know what Derek was referring to. Morgan had sighed, took the offered seat across from his desk, and repeated the words again, "I know what's going on."

"I'm really not following," Aaron began, trying to wrap his head around what it was that could have Morgan refraining from his usual blunt approach.

"It's not right," The darker man mumbled, rubbing his hands over his head, adverting his gaze from his boss. "It's not fair to Reid." The last he shot back at Aaron with a piercing cold glare.

"If you have an issue with Reid–" Hotch started slowly, trying to find the words that would diffuse the building tension in the room.

"Don't even try denying it," Morgan stood, holding up his hand for Hotch to stop. "You know what I'm talking about." Aaron dropped his pen. He never recalled even picking it up, but it was assuredly not needed at this moment. Leaning back in his chair, he gave Morgan a stoic look.

"What do you want?"

"I _want _it to stop," Derek barked, practically yelling at him. Aaron hadn't seen the other man this aggrieved but once before. At that time, it was in an interrogation room, and Hotch had been recounting the trauma of the other man's childhood back to him. Morgan took a breath, one that did little to abate the shaking of his hands, "Look, I don't care whatever the excuse, whatever reason you want to come up with. But," Morgan's eyes glanced down to the bullpen. The other members of their team had been slowly slipping in. Reid was leaving the break room, a large mug of coffee gripped between long fingers as he sipped the hot liquid. Derek's eyes softened slightly as he looked down to their youngest team member, "That kid is my friend."

"And like I was trying to say," Aaron countered, slowly, "If you have any _issue _with Reid, maybe you need to speak with _him_." Hotch was trying to be calm and collected in the face of Morgan's semi-bridled fury. It was hard not to match it for his own, but he did possess blame here.

"No," Morgan relinquished all rage with that word, a flat refusal issued as he shrugged his shoulders at Aaron. "I'm not speaking with him about it. I'm speaking to you," He gestured a hand to Aaron, shaking his head in resignation. "You're a good guy Hotch. I respect you. You can do the right thing. Just end this."

"You make it sound easy," Hotch returned, but he had to work to keep his own tone even now. "Too easy."

"I'm only asking for you to do the right thing," Morgan contested. "If Strauss found out…"

"Agent Morgan," Aaron snapped, the control on his temper dissipating like grains of fine sand in grasped palms, "if ever you feel that I am out of line as your supervisor, I encourage you to take your grievances up with Strauss. She will be more than happy to listen."

"Yeah, I'll bet," Morgan worked his jaw, indignation pooling over his voice. "She'd listen so well you'd be thrown out of here for good. So well – that, and I'm sure I would be the team's new Unit Chief." Morgan shook his head, in ire and dismay, "You think I want that? That I would _want _the reason I get promoted to Unit Chief to be because I outed you? Hell no, I'm not getting a leg up like that. I'm _better _then that! When I get to run a team it will be based on nothing but my own merits, not because of politics or Strauss' personal agenda."

Hotch sat in his chair, looking up at Morgan as he tried to profile the man out. He wouldn't go to Strauss; that wasn't a lie. He would consider it a permanent stain on his career. However, he refused to go to Reid as well?

Reid was his friend; the two were extremely close. That would normally be the first person he turned to with his concerns. Hotch blinked as the realization hit him. That was why he wouldn't talk to Reid about this. When Spencer had said he wanted the relationship private, the younger man had meant just that. He hadn't told Morgan.

The pieces of the puzzle that were Derek's anger, frustration, and disappointment all began to click into place. Hotch wasn't so much surprised Morgan noticed something, he was one of the best profilers the Bureau had to offer. Going back over his choice of words, this all came down to one reason. For Derek, this wasn't about Hotch, this was about Reid.

"I'm going to tell you this one last time," Hotch was no longer angry, but he still wouldn't yield. "You should talk to Reid." Spencer was the one who wanted this kept quiet. Aaron actually wished he could simply do as Morgan said. Maybe not the part where he broke off the relationship, but stepping down as supervisor, or transferring to another team. Doing the _right _thing may not have been a thought that was identical in their minds, but it was something they both wanted.

It hit Aaron then, like a blow to the gut. His first conversation with Reid, he had laid out the reasons why they couldn't be in a relationship. Aaron had gone from choosing his career, his place in their team, to deciding that he would give them up. He'd gone to choosing the brown haired man sitting several feet away outside his office.

The revelation was both startling and unnerving, but it was true. Even as he looked at the very pissed off Derek Morgan, he knew he wouldn't avow that any such relationship between them even existed. This was the way Reid wanted it, despite how much Aaron wished they didn't need to keep it as a sordid affair. When his priorities had changed, he couldn't say. Aaron wasn't even aware that this was his decided path until Morgan had thrown his knowledge of their affair into his face.

The true irony of Morgan's "talk"' was that it clarified Aaron's mind, pushing him even farther into the direction Derek did not want him going.

"Now, if that's all," Hotch quirked his brow up at the man, slightly dazed yet oddly pleased with this new found realization, "Both you and I have work to do." Picking up the forgotten pen and pulling open a file, Aaron began the tasks of his day. Morgan's mouth dropped, worked some, then he simple shook his head.

"You _do _realize," Derek turned his head over his shoulder as he went to the door, "that this is war."

"Um-hm," Hotch said, still far too wrapped up in his own private revelation to heed much of anything at the present moment. Morgan left, and the BAU continued on as though the last half hour never happened.

Things were returned to normal, for the most part. Reid seemingly made good on his promise of a loud expo filled with explosions to punish the slightly hung-over group. Aaron was not in attendance, but considering that at ten o'clock his office shook from a speaker bass, and he heard the distinct sounds of moaning coming from the briefing room, he assumed all was going well – for Spencer, at least.

While Aaron was wrapping up his last file for the day, he received a call from an outside line. It was Jess. Her family had gone to visit her husband's mother and father's estate for the week. She was currently bored out of her mind and wanted to grill at his house tonight. She claimed to be going through cabin fever. Aaron concurred that it sounded like a good idea, and she happily told him that he should invite Spencer over as well. Hotch promised to ask the genius if he would be available when he realized it was the only way he could get Jess to hang up.

He went to Reid's desk on his way out, extending Jess's invitation. Aaron didn't refer to Jess's mild threats of what would happen if Spencer didn't show. They were all promised to be visited upon Aaron anyway, not Reid. He should have told her that promises of pain weren't necessary. Reid's eyes lit up instantly at the invitation. "Sounds like fun!"

"Oh, what's that?" Came the foreboding voice of Morgan, as he pushed his chair. Sliding in one long, well aimed roll that landed him beside the younger man's desk.

"Jess invited me over for a grill out!" Reid chirped.

"At your house?" Morgan gave Hotch a look he knew he didn't misread.

"That would be where I keep my grill," Hotch commented deadpan toward Morgan, who merely rolled his eyes as a sarcastic grin pulled on his face.

"I bet," Morgan then turned full honey lips and eyes to Reid, "You know, that does sound like a lot of fun!" His voice was loud, much louder then needed as Reid was sitting right next to him. That wasn't his objective though.

"What sounds like fun?" Prentiss asked from behind Hotch, and Aaron had to close his eyes and take a slow, mild breath. It didn't take long until the whole team was invited over to his house for dinner. He met the clamoring with a warm smile, everyone offering to bring a dish. When Morgan moved past him to the elevator, the triumphant grin was distinctly for Hotch's benefit.

Fine, Hotch conceded at Morgan's first staged intervention into his personal time with Spencer. This was war.

The evening had been just that. Morgan made a point of keeping them apart, or making sure neither Aaron nor Spencer was left alone in the other's company. It had even gone as far as Morgan sliding in front of Reid to the seat across from Hotch at dinner.

Derek wouldn't go running to Strauss, but his lopsided grins, and the glints in his eyes screamed that this was going to be worse. Much worse, because they held the promise that was undeniably Derek Morgan's trademark determination. Derek wasn't going to stop, not tonight, nor tomorrow. Never.

The problem with placing two extremely bullheaded alphas together when neither one of them will yield on a situation is summed up in one word: cockfight.

Both considered themselves good men, and both thought they were taking the high road. Morgan wouldn't snitch, and Aaron wouldn't break with what Reid desired. Since both were already on their own personally considered high road that only left only the other one. The one where one would have to belly up. Neither Derek Morgan nor Aaron Hotchner was the sort of man to do that.

Aaron silently appraised the situation once more when the evening had drawn to a close, and his co-workers began to file out of his home. He now had a tension headache building in the back of his head.

Derek Morgan had declared war, and, as of this moment, Hotch wondered if he was winning.

"Come on, Reid." Derek turned, wrapping his arm around the younger man's shoulders. "You're my ride tonight."

"You didn't bring a car?" Reid grimaced. "I feel like I'm in _Driving Miss Daisy_."

"No, no, no," Garcia patted Reid's head, "that's a bad analogy. You are certainly no Morgan Freeman, and Derek is definitely not an old Southern woman."

"But I have to drive him everywhere!" Reid very plaintively whined, and a pout soon followed.

"Aren't you always wanting to drive when we're in the field?" Prentiss asked as she pulled her purse over her arm.

"Yeah, but that's different. That's the Bureau's SUV when we're in the field. The thing is a beast! My Volvo? Come on, who cares about driving that?"

"Aww," Garcia kissed Reid's cheek, then moved to snake an arm around Morgan's neck, "Come, my dulcet darling. You shall hitch a ride with me! I'll be your Morgan Freeman any day."

"I'm not Miss Daisy!" Morgan countered, but with Garcia's apt hold about his neck the retort had little bite as he was dragged out the door.

"Night Hotch, thanks for having us over," JJ waved as she and Will moved out the door, pushing Morgan even farther away.

"Reckon we'll do this again, maybe our place next?" Will offered as he walked his wife out.

"Belly full. I'll be sleeping well tonight," Prentiss waved goodbye as she exited.

Rossi was next in line, a small smile on his lips as he stopped at the door. Aaron cocked his head to the side as the older man shook his head and gave Hotch a bemused smile, "You'd think we see enough of each other we wouldn't make plans to do it outside the office."

"_Tell me thy company, and I'll tell thee what thou art_." Reid responded, rocking back on his heels beside Hotch.

"Miguel de Cervantes," Rossi remarked, nodding his head. "_Absence diminishes little passions and increases great ones, as the wind extinguishes candles and fans a fire_."

"François Duc de la Rochefoucauld," Reid grinned. Rossi returned the warm smile before nodding once to Hotch and leaving as well. Aaron shifted on his feet as the cars drove away, until nothing but silence and the setting sun claimed the darkening house.

"You and Rossi exchange quotes?" Aaron remarked, keeping his eyes on the door.

"Yeah," Reid hummed, still rocking on his heels. "Kind of a game to see who can stump the other. Quotes are often attributed to the wrong person. Even an answer considered correct by many could be wrong. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing," Aaron mumbled, rubbing his chin. He felt a hand on his button-up shirt, grasping and jerking on the cloth lightly. When Hotch looked over he was rewarded with a light kiss on the lips. It was sweet, but short lived as Jess took that moment to enter the room. Jack was nestled in her arms, his sleeping head on her shoulder.

"Oh, my, um," the woman said, turning away as though she had blundered in, but then she quickly realized that Jack's head lolled on her shoulder, now facing the two, so she turned back again. She did this twice before she gave up, offering the two men an apologetic smile.

"Thank you for the idea of grilling tonight," Aaron sighed, brushing his hand just over Reid's lower back before moving to claim his sleeping child from the woman.

"Actually," Jess smiled as she pulled away from Aaron's grasp, "I could handle taking Jack back to my place. It's completely empty there right now, and I would love the company," She turned big doe eyes up at Hotch, pulling the boy closer. Aaron was pretty sure she was using his son's shoulder as a shield for the smile he could see dimpling her cheeks.

"Are you sure?" Aaron asked the woman, but Jess nodded fervently. He could tell she was in a state where she didn't trust her voice to not break out in hysterical giggles should she speak. "Hey Buddy," Aaron ruffled his son's golden hair, earning him a distant moan. "Did you want to stay at your aunt's house tonight?"

Jack gave a small nod, wrapping his arms around her neck. It wasn't uncommon for Jack to visit with his extended family, though Aaron suspected the only reason he agreed to such times when he wasn't in the field was Jess's chocolate chip pancakes. Hotch went to his son's room, gathering up a small bag of his essentials while Jess tried her best to keep her laugh in her throat.

"I'm, uh, going home anyways," Spencer murmured to Jess when Aaron had left. He was blushing several shades of red and keeping his eyes off the woman. "You don't have to… Do anything, like that. It's not, you know…"

"Me merely wanting to have Jack over so I don't get lonely has nothing to do with whether or not you go home, Spencer," Jess pushed up her brows, giving a devil-may-care look to the genius. She walked towards the door, but turned back to Reid as she opened it, "Though, I suppose Aaron would be rather lonely all by himself tonight…"

If it was possible his blush went even deeper. Aaron returned, and stopped when he stood besides the beet red man. "What?" Aaron asked.

A chorus of, "Nothing." was the only response. Shrugging his shoulders, which hurt given the building headache, Aaron walked Jess out to her car. Opening the door, he helped buckle Jack in. A goodnight, and farewell left only two inside the house.

TBC~

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I might be evil for leaving it off there. Maybe. Again thanks to my beta, and all the people who have reviewed! Definitely helps productivity levels.


	6. Chapter 6

Summary: The unasked 'why' to Jessica.

Warnings: Per-suggestion, there's no new warning not covered in the rating.

Copyrights: Criminal Minds belongs to CBS, not me. I can wish though. I made up Jess's husband's name. As far as I'm aware he doesn't exist in canon.

Special Thanks: Starofoberon for beta'ing and giving me the courage to post this. Also to everyone who has reviewed as well, it means a lot.

**An Ode to Jess**

When Jessica hung up the phone from the call to Aaron, she looked at the reflection in her hallway mirror. It was a decorative piece, small, meant to increase the appearance of the hall. Brushing a finger over her face, she let the words of Spencer Reid play back as vividly as though her finger were an old record player's needle.

_Does Hotch know?_

Dropping her hand, she gritted her teeth and looked back at the reflection. Parting unpainted lips, she smiled. Disgusted with the image, she murmured a curse at the reflection's strained lips and jaw. It was barely audible, but her voice reverberated in the empty home. Taking a breath, she started again. Practice made perfect.

_No, he doesn't. It needs to stay that way._

She needed to speak with Reid. He was her only outlet now, the only one who was aware of this particular issue. Aaron promised her that he would ask Reid to come, at her request. She had used a ploy of grilling, because the weather was so nice. She admitted to being lonely, though she claimed it was cabin fever. She was lonely because she _was _alone.

_Jess, you can't keep this a secret._

The best lies were wrapped in truth. She'd asked Aaron once, out of boredom, to profile her. He declined, saying that profiling someone you know on a personal level was never a good idea. Personal relationships distort profiles. It was the reason no one ever suspected their husband, wife, or neighbor was capable of the crimes they were arrested for. That's why it's always recounted later that, "they're not that type of person".

_You know Aaron. You do realize what he would do? Besides, it's my fault, and don't look at me like that! I started it. On purpose._

At first, Jessica came to Aaron's home to help out with Jack. Then, when she saw how broken the man was, she came for Aaron as well. She didn't want to admit the truth. That the last straw might have been Haley's death, but the cracks were there before that. Her death was simply what shattered him.

She never took a side when Haley phoned to complain about Aaron, not even when her sister confessed to having an ongoing affair. Haley was her sister. She'd tried to counsel her against the affair, but Jess never told Aaron. She lied for her sister, by keeping silent.

_Everyone says that Jess! I can't tell you how many reports are filled with, 'It's my fault'._

After the fact, when Aaron broke off with Haley and with the rest of her family, Jess wondered how much of the blame was hers to own. Aaron was a good man and Haley purposefully worked to break him down. She had said it was his work that was to blame. It was a half lie, like the best lies always were. Her sister had already divorced Aaron long before the two had separated, before she'd started the affair. The marriage was over. The infidelity and constant berating were Haley's way of letting Hotch know that as well.

Heading up the staircase, Jessica went to her room. An old fashioned oak vanity sat in the corner. The mirror here was better, as well as the light. Lifting up the untamable strands of blond locks, she examined the reflection again. Taking the lid off the foundation, Jess began the work of putting on her face.

_You don't understand Reid. I'm being honest when I say it really is my fault. I threw a cup at his head. There was tea in it. Hot tea._

Haley had a good man, and then she broke him. Jessica now wondered if she was guilty of trying to do the same thing.

Reid saw it. Of course, now she knew better then to try to put one over on him. The eidetic memory owning genius _would _be the one to notice the small increased layer of makeup on her skin, the way the tone was off by a fraction.

When she came to Aaron's home that first morning, and saw her brother-in-law standing over his son and the light brown haired man who were sleeping before him, Jess saw light. She saw the broken Aaron Hotchner smiling with such a sweet look of contentment. It was small, but that light in his face was enough to give her hope.

The hope was for Aaron, but partially it was for herself. She bore some responsibility for the cracks that had caused the man to shatter, to remove any sign of happiness from his eyes. It could have been a poodle sitting on that couch and Jess would have gone to instantly redecorating Aaron's home until it was covered in images of fluffy furred dogs.

Thankfully, that endeared look had been for a human being. A rather handsome, smart, sensitive human being. Jess let herself smile again softly at the memory. Looking up in the vanity's oval mirror, she noted that this smile was one she could approve of.

The next time she saw Reid was quite a few days later. He had fallen asleep, but this time he was laid out on the sofa, a blanket draped artfully over his slumbering frame. She let herself smile then too, a smile very much akin to this one.

Recalling the young man's near orgasmic response to coffee, she instantly set to brewing up a fresh pot. The wafting aroma soon woke the men in the house. Hotch had smiled that morning as well. Small, and soft, but it reached his eyes. He had excused himself for a shower, leaving Reid in Jess's hands.

Hotch was unaware that Jess had designs for this man, designs that she hoped would rebuild what she'd help to tear down. If there was a god in this universe then Aaron soon would be aware. Before she could start planting subtle hints or thoughts in the young man's head though, a long finger had reached up, and brushed back a golden lock of hair from her cheek.

Jess froze, because there was no question, not with the look he was giving her. He saw it, and he knew it for what it was. Pulling her face back, he let her retreat as she finished pouring Spencer's second cup.

"It's not what you're thinking," she sighed, again telling a partial truth.

"Yes, it is," Reid's eyes were dark, but his voice was even. She balked, frozen by the pure honesty that crossed his lips so easily. "Does Hotch know?"

"No, he doesn't. It needs to stay that way," She let her fingers grip her cup, admiring the whiteness growing across her knuckles.

"Jess," Spencer called her name softly, drawing her attentions back to the man sitting across the center island of the kitchen, "you can't keep this a secret."

"You know Aaron." It wasn't a question. The two were comfortable in each other's presence. Aaron never let his guard down, but he did that for Spencer, which meant that they'd worked together for a long time. This was someone he trusted, someone who knew him. "You _do _realize what he would do?" Reid closed his eyes, his brow pulling down. Yeah, he knew Aaron. Her brother-in-law had a temper. One that scared him so much he tried to bury everything to ever keep it from coming out. "Besides," Jess sighed, releasing more truth and less lie as she relaxed, "it's my fault, and don't look at me like that! I started it. On purpose."

"Everyone says that Jess! I can't tell you how many reports are filled with, 'It's my fault'." Jess shook her head. It all sounded like a bad Lifetime movie, but really that wasn't how it was. She wasn't in denial.

"You don't understand, Reid." she grimaced, averting her gaze. "I'm being honest when I say it really is my fault. I threw a cup at his head. There was tea in it. Hot tea." No one likes to admit their shortcomings, and less so when owning up to their evils.

"Jess, really," Reid shook his head, and Jessica slapped her hand on the table between them.

"Yes, I know that a man hitting a woman is wrong, but Reid," She gave him her best pleading eyes, "you have to trust me when I say I attacked until he defended himself. That's why you can't tell Hotch. He wouldn't care about what I did. It's written in every fiber of his being that a man never hits a woman."

"It's not such an outlandish concept," he blankly returned. "W~why throw a cup at his head?" Reid asked, his fingers gripping his own mug tightly. There was no cure for it now, so Jess related her shame to a man she'd met but once before.

Her husband, Michael, had cheated on her. An event near a year in their past. She'd confronted him, he came clean, and the next day the affair had ended.

Jess knew it was over, even now she knew he was faithful, but at any given moment something would set her off. She'd find a hair on his jacket, a matchbox in the car. In one light they would appear as evidence, proof of a return to infidelity, but they weren't. The hair was from a co-worker he brushed by. The matchbook was from the man he had picked up for carpool that morning. In hindsight, she saw the truth, but in light of the moment of discovery she saw red.

Each time it was fresh and raw, the ripping up of the old betrayal through a healed scar. Each time she couldn't think, couldn't breath. She cried, screamed, and, more recently, she attacked. She started with slapping, hitting, punching. Soon objects joined the fray.

Michael wasn't abusive. Any marks on her were from him trying to restrain his enraged wife. The half lie. The truth was that was how it started, but once or twice she had attacked and he was hurt. The burning of tea as it slashed across his face, glass shattering into a wall. A pan hurled toward his head, hitting the hand that blocked the blow. When Jess managed to actually injure him, he lashed back. That was the truth.

Neither was fully innocent, but she wouldn't claim the role of abused. She was as much, if not more, an abuser then her husband.

Reid didn't like it. He wanted to tell Hotch. He told Jessica that she needed counseling, for herself and for her husband. That violence such as this only got worse, until someone was hurt beyond the use of makeup or a Band-Aid.

Jessica knew he was right, but she didn't want to talk to a stranger about it. To expose their family's dirty laundry to the world.

Reid made a point to cough in his hand, "I'm pretty close to a stranger," he said, but sighed when she showed no sign of relenting. "Jess, things like this, they take outside help. It's not something you'll fix on your own. I won't tell Hotch, and I can't make you go to a counselor. It's something you have to want to do. Admitting you have a problem is the first step."

"And you know a thing or two about first steps?" She asked, though not unkindly. Reid shuffled in his seat, his eyes dark in thought, in memory.

"I know what it's like to need help."

Looking at her reflection, the bruise covered now with foundation, Jess hung her head in shame. Her most recent fight with Michael had been the worst one to date. When it was finished, they'd mutely swept up the broken glass in the kitchen. It was two full bags of rubble they brought out to the curb. When they returned back to the house, Jess noticed a shadow on the landing. Looking up her heart fell to her feet as she and Michael found their two boys sitting on the top step, white as sheets with fear in their eyes.

Jess turned away, putting her hand over the swollen mark that marred her jaw where Michael's hand had landed. "We can't do this!" She looked at her husband, tears blurring her sight and threatening to spill out. "I won't do this to them!"

Michael's own blue eyes were wide in shock and fear. He raised a hand to her shoulder, one that was bloodied from covering his face from a flying plate, and he stopped. Shoving the limb into his pocket, he mutely nodded to his wife. He tried to speak, but his voice was weak. Clearing his throat he whispered for their children to go back to bed.

"Mommy's hurt?" Their youngest asked. He was only six years, and Jessica sucked in a sob, turning wet eyes and a forced smile up to him.

"Mommy is all right," She lied, a full lie without an ounce of truth in it. It hurt more then the bruised jaw ever could.

Michael took the boys up to his parents' the next morning. Neither of them knew what they were doing. They just knew that being together right now was not an option. Their children were too important.

Jessica was lonely, because she was alone.

The house echoed with each step she took, and she was desperate to talk with the only one who knew exactly what sort of person she was. Now, Jess regretted the fact that she had no way of contacting Spencer without using Aaron as an intermediary. She could have asked for Spencer's cell number numerous times, but she hadn't. It had been part of her plan. If she wanted to get to Spencer she would go through Aaron. The more they interacted the better, even if it was to simply relay a message.

Jessica marveled that while she had taken such pains to try and repair her broken brother-in-law, she'd easily managed the act of breaking her own home.

When she came to Aaron's house, she quickly realized there were six additional people she had wished were not there. Not only that, but – curses! They were all profilers! She kept the smile she'd practiced, though none paid her any large amount of attention.

Her attempts to single out Reid were also thwarted throughout the night. The man, Derek Morgan, was glued to Spencer's side. When Derek wasn't there, one of their other co-workers was cozying up to the sweet man. Jess felt her frustrations grow tenfold. She really wanted to talk, and they weren't making this any easier.

At the evening's close, when the interlopers had departed, Jess foresaw an opportunity to steal away the young genius. There was one problem. When she came to unload the sleeping bundle in her arms on Aaron, and nab away Spencer, she walked into something that made her heart skip a beat.

Their friends were gone, and Aaron and Spencer were kissing. It was sweet, and full of so many emotions given and received warmly on both sides. Even from Aaron. They saw her, and pulled apart. Jess was not struck so much with surprise, but with awe. It happened.

Shattered and broken Aaron Hotchner looked like a whole person in that moment. Something she helped to break, brought back together, and her heart felt like it would burst just from that.

When she told Spencer that she wanted to bring Jack back to her place for the night because she was lonely, it was a whole truth. The fact that it gave them a child-free evening for whatever they decided to explore was the unspoken bonus.

At her home, Jack had nestled into her youngest son's bed. Jess marveled at the boy. He had gone through a broken home and traumas of his own. Yet, here he was. Alive, and adjusting in a world without his mother. As she brushed her fingers through her sleeping nephew's golden hair, she wondered what Jack would think of the light brought back into his father. If something so broken could be repaired, was there hope for herself and Michael?

The phone rang, and Jess hurried across the hall to answer it, afraid it might wake up her nephew.

"Jess… I'm sorry, but the boys miss you," _Michael_, she breathed, tears coming to her eyes. For the next hour she laughed over the phone, while she let tears spill down her face. She couldn't say if she was happy or sad. It could have been both. When her husband finally got the receiver back from the youngest, the line went quiet for several moments.

"Jess?"

"Yeah," Jessica breathed in, wiping away tears that no one could see. "I'm here."

"Are you all right?" She half laughed, half cried into the phone at the concern in his voice. How had he explained the cuts on his hands to his parent?

"Ye~ No, no, Michael," She breathed out, relaxing into the wall beside the base and sliding down till she rested on the floor. "I'm not all right."

"I miss you, please, can't we~"

"We need help," Jess replied to the unspoken question. They couldn't keep sweeping their problems under the rug. She gave a sad laugh, covering her mouth as she realized that first step had been accomplished. "I love you Mike, but we need help…"

If things shattered could come back together, and shine with the warmth of love Jess had seen in Aaron that evening, maybe there would be hope for her as well.

_**There's one sad truth in life I've found**_

_**While journeying east and west -**_

_**The only folks we really wound**_

_**Are those we love the best.**_

_**We flatter those we scarcely know,**_

_**We please the fleeting guest,**_

_**And deal full many a thoughtless blow**_

_**To those who love us best.**_

~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox

TBC~

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Intermission finished. I debated strongly with not posting this chapter, but I couldn't bring myself to trash it either. She kinda grew on me. Either way it's a double post so you can't be mad :P


	7. Chapter 7

Summary: Reid learns about Aaron's strut.

Warnings: Slash… There's no squinting here. Not. At. All. This chapter earns the story its right to be rated M. You're warned.

Copyrights: Criminal Minds belongs to CBS, not me. I can wish though.

Special Thanks: Once more, big thank you Starofoberon. You're support, help, and comments are amazing. Also, a big thanks to all the reviewers! Definitely helping me keep this story on track.

**Contact**

Hotch returned to the house, the door closing just as long arms wrapped about his chest. The man was pressed into his back, while fingers felt for the buttons of his shirt, securing a hold, then slowly undoing them. Hotch eased into the hold, laughing when one button was being obstinate and unyielding to the graceful fingers that plucked on it. Turning around, he brought his arms up to return the embrace he received.

"You know we don't have to do this tonight," Hotch said, a half smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

"I'm not going to be the one to look a gift horse in the mouth," Reid said, quirking an eye up at Hotch.

Aaron didn't bother to suppress his laugh. "Rossi gets French poets, and I get the 'gift horse' quote?"

"Take it for what you will," Spencer murmured, pulling his hands from behind Hotch and returning to the unbuttoning job now before him. His task was much easier now that he could see his prey. Opening the shirt, he sighed at the white tee that lay below. "Damned layers."

Aaron hummed in his throat at the agitated expression. Pressing his hands into the other man's lower back he pulled Spencer in fully, and claimed the frowning lips. Reid purred happily, sliding his hands up the near exposed chest to wrap his arms around Aaron's neck. Aaron returned the sentiment, a shiver running down his spine as he let himself slowly explore the body beneath his grasp, savoring each touch as their tongues slowly met and caressed.

Reid leaned in more, using Aaron's broad shoulders to pull himself up for better leverage into the mouth pressed against his. Aaron hissed into the kiss, breaking away the contact of their lips as he tried to clear the pain building in his head.

"What's wrong?" Reid questioned at the broken kiss, but Aaron took a moment to answer.

"Tension headache, that's all," He whispered in reply. Taking a hand off the body before him, he pressed his fingers into his temple, trying to will away the pain. His heart rate had increased, and he could feel it pounding in his skull like a bass drum.

"Are you serious?" Reid froze in his arms, eyes going wide with disbelief, "I thought that was just an excuse people used." Aaron tried to offer a weak smile, but even that seemed to hurt. The brown haired genius sighed, dropping his head to Aaron's chest before pulling away from the man.

Though holding Reid is what had caused the pain to increase, letting him go only made it worse. Now Aaron's mind was silently kicking itself for ruining the start of a very good moment.

Reid disappeared, but returned a moment later with a glass of water and two pills. He offered them to Aaron. The older man offered an apologetic glance before swallowing the aspirin and chasing them down with the water.

_Fuck_, Hotch cursed silently when he handed the glass back to Reid. Morgan was going to be the cause of interruptions when he wasn't even here? He could picture the man laughing his ass off. Not that Hotch would ever relate to Derek this particular detail, or any other intimate recount.

_Point one to Derek._

Hotch wondered if Reid would leave, be offended, upset, pissed off, something. He wouldn't be surprised if he did. The _I have a headache _excuse was truly the most common, lame, rejection for intimacy there ever was. He should know. It had been Haley's favorite.

Reid didn't stalk off though. Lacing his fingers through Aaron's, he pulled the other man to the living room. Depositing Aaron on the sofa, he left the room once more. It was for only a few moments, then he returned with a bottle of lotion and another glass of water. Setting down the glass on the coffee table, he pointed at Aaron's shirt.

"Take it off." The request was one that at any other time Aaron would have been happy to oblige, but even as he removed the garments about his chest he winced. The stiff muscles around his neck cried out in displeasure at the movements shooting only more pain into his skull.

Reid took off his sweater and his shoes, but the rest of his clothes remained. Aaron kept his gaze on the blue striped sock and the red polka-dot one that appeared before him. Pulling a pillow from the side of the couch, Spencer directed Aaron to lie face down. He obliged, and was surprised when Spencer's weight pressed down around his hips.

They had known each other for a long time, yet Hotch never knew that Spencer Reid, besides being a genius and an exemplary profiler, knew how to give a massage. Long fingers warmed lotion between rubbed hands before applying it to the muscles of his shoulders and neck. They moved softly at first, rubbing and loosening the tissue before they carefully pushed deeper. Stopping over the various knots they found, they documented their location for later before continuing on the path of discovery.

"God, Hotch," Reid commented, finding the fifth knot of stiff tendons, "you're hard as a rock." _You have no idea_, Hotch silently noted, grateful this was a face-down massage. "Are you always this tense?"

"No~ooo," Hotch moaned as Reid's palms joined in the act, applying pressure to the base of one section of disgruntled tissue. He worked the muscles, forcing the knot along the path of the tendon until the built up pressure released. Aaron was somewhere else when the next question was asked, giving a throaty, "Hum?"

"Was it because of tonight?" There was a hesitant guilt in Reid's voice, and Aaron was brought back in by the crushing weight of it.

"It's nothing I can't handle." He tried to sooth the man who was currently moving flat palms down his back.

"Tension headaches have several possible causes," Spencer noted, as his fingers worked on another knot, "Overexertion, fatigue, physical and mental stress…" The hands pulled away, and Aaron heard the shifting of fabric. He was tempted to turn around, but the hands returned once more, arms and elbows now joining in the act.

Reid remained silent. He skimmed fingers over the body below him when he finished to ensure nothing escaped his notice. Hotch was in a land of ecstasy when he felt more skin than that of Spencer's hands and arms pressing into his back. Reid lay across the body he straddled, pressing his face into the back of Aaron's neck. "It's because of me, isn't it," He breathed out, shame lacing his words.

Aaron shifted, turning around until he was no longer on his belly, but facing the other man. Reid's shirt had gone, fallen to the floor, and the younger man sat back when Aaron faced him. He turned his dark eyes away, but Hotch reached up cupping his face in his palms. Pulling the face down so he could clearly see him, Aaron bit his lip at the guilt that etched hard lines in the younger man's face.

"Reid," Aaron spoke, sure to use the most authoritative voice he had in his repertoire. "I said I can handle it."

"I'm being selfish," Reid blurted out, closing his dark eyes, "Because I want to keep you, this, to myself, and it's causing you pain. Physical pain, Hotch. Don't say that all of the team being here isn't what led you to get so stressed you got a headache! You were guarded all evening, and it was because of me. I'm a profiler too, remember."

"Don't do that," Aaron tried not to admonish the man, but it was tempting. Reid was always painful to watch when he turned to self-abasement, and right now those words were killing him. "You give so much of yourself to everyone else, it's a small thing to ask to have something of your own."

Reid had a protest built up on his lips, his brow pressing down in a frown. However, Aaron pushed up off the couch, until he was sitting with Reid in his lap, and kissed Spencer before he could get a word out. Reid resisted at first, then slowly his body relaxed into Aaron. Breaking the kiss, Aaron trailed it down the man's jaw, and down the neck that arched into his mouth. "Besides," Aaron amended, murmuring into the skin of his collarbone, "maybe I haven't told you this, but I like being the thing you want."

A tired, halfhearted laugh was Reid's only response. Aaron had debated all evening on informing Reid that Morgan was aware of their relationship, but Reid's pained laugh instantly killed the notion. Aaron could handle Morgan, tension headaches be damned.

Sliding hands down the ribs and slim waist before him, Aaron marveled at Spencer's reaction to his touch. Reid shivered, muscles tightening, his breath hitching instantly. He had so much power over the younger man, and it was intoxicating watching the body shudder under his caress. That he would allow Aaron that much control only made him want to protect Reid's proclaimed "selfish" desires more. Capturing his mouth again, he let his hands walk down to Reid's hips, which jerked under the pressure of the circling of his thumbs.

"Good god, Hotch!" Reid hitched, grasping the other man's shoulders as his body continued to tremble at his touch.

"You know you can call me Aaron when were not in the office," he hinted, tracing a tongue down the neck that glistened and tasted of the salt of sweat.

"Y~you could handle calling me Spencer sometimes too," Reid fumbled, finding Aaron's ear lobe and giving it a playful nip.

"How far did you want to go, Spencer?" Aaron asked, pressing a hand into Reid's abs.

"Ha," Reid laughed, trying to make a face at Aaron, but failing miserably, "I don't know, just enjoying the moment I guess. I've done some research though."

"Research?" Aaron returned, arching a brow at the man who licked his lips.

"Yeah," He said, sliding across Aaron's lap, causing the man to try and contain a deep moan, "You'd be surprised what you can find on the Internet. Is your head good enough to handle, um, more?" The question was posed with a serious note. Reid would stop too, Hotch figured, should he admit that the throbbing in his skull had lessened, but still lurked there.

"I've had my fill of cold showers for the last week," Aaron informed the man seated in his lap as he kissed him. He moved his hands to the genius' chest, pushing Reid down. Adjusting so he now was the one straddling Spencer, he gave the startled, some what perturbed, looking man a kiss.

Sliding his hand down Reid's arching stomach, he paused as his fingers grabbed hold of the top of his pants. Giving dilated brown eyes a questioning look, he waited for affirmation before continuing. Spencer didn't trust his voice, so he nodded. Aaron gave him a soft smile as he resumed kissing him. His hand slipped down the fabric, and when they reached his destination, Aaron couldn't suppress the chuckle he breathed into Reid's mouth. Spencer's mouth had opened fully, and his body had arched even more, a bit of shock coating his features.

As he caressed long strokes across Reid, he marveled again at the reaction to his touch. Aaron found himself growing harder with each stifled whimper, or curse, the good doctor tried to keep down.

"We _are _alone," Aaron reminded the man huskily, as he breathed into Reid's neck.

"Just," Reid shook his head, digging nails into Aaron's back, "not, going to do _that_."

By _that_, Hotch assumed he meant _cry out_. It was a fine challenge, and it gave him a worthy goal. Aaron Hotchner always tried to perform to the best of his abilities in any aspect of his life. He certainly had no intention of failing here. Making his attentions to the hard erection in his hands two-fold, he used every technique he'd ever known as he increased pace.

Aaron watched as he slid his fingers down Spencer's length, reveling in the sounds that the other man tried to keep locked away in his throat. To help him release them, Aaron brought his mouth up to the bobbing Adam's apple, sucking and licking down the salty skin until he reached the hallow at the base of that long neck. A nip earned him a broken moan. Smiling, Aaron kept his mouth there, sucking and nipping at the tender skin.

Reid was still fighting them back though. Since the broken, stifled cries weren't fully released, Aaron pressed his other hand up under and along Spencer's ribs. When his fingers found the dark tissue of a nipple, he earned a clear gasp. He worked all three of these points, and the sounds that came out of the throat under his mouth grew louder and more clearly under his attentions.

It wasn't long until Spencer Reid melted, his skin on fire as he climaxed, and, yes, Spencer most assuredly did do _that_. When his mind returned once more from the white sparks that hazed his vision, he was greeted by the very self-pleased expression of Aaron looking down at him.

"You suck!" Reid snapped, and to his credit did a blush that went from head to toe.

"Actually, I didn't suck anything," Aaron said defensively. Looking down he noticed the discoloration on Reid's neck. Gently pulling lips back on the slim neck before him, he amended, "Um, except maybe this." Aaron traced the pinked skin with his tongue, "Sorry," he murmured, "I think I marked you." Reid slapped a hand to his neck when Hotch pulled away, flushing even brighter as his eyes went wide.

"Oh, no. No you didn't," Spencer growled, pulling his arms between them, and he shoved Aaron forcefully back. Hotch blinked at Spencer, about to apologize when long fingers unzipped his own pants and grasped him firmly. Any words died on his lips as Reid's hands found Aaron's already straining erection.

For the first time since he had Aaron pinned down in the hall outside Jack's room, Reid froze up. His eyes went wide, and fear was kindled in his mind. His intentions since the start had been that this was something he would go into with both feet, so to speak, in every aspect. Now, though, he was starting to wonder if that was physically even _possible_.

It was always apparent Aaron had a strut in his walk. He was a confident man, Unit Chief to their team. He went toe to toe with some of the hardest criminals of their times. In the last month he'd even allowed himself to watch Aaron's confident strides with happy and guarded pleasure. Not once had Reid suspected that the strut could be attributed to Hotch's rather significant endowment! Good god, and it wasn't like Spencer was shy about his own blessings in genes. He could safely say that he was hung fairly well himself, but this?

It shouldn't have been so surprising, given all the times he'd had Aaron pressed up into his body. He could feel the bulge, knew it was adequate. Though he'd never had such an clear foundation for his estimations until he held it in his hands.

Spencer sighed, deflated, as he silently admitted that "going all the way" was something he was going to have to work his way up to in stages. _Really _work his way up to.

"Spenc~" Aaron started, but Reid gave him a cold, calculating look that silenced him.

Aaron couldn't say when, if ever, he'd been examined with such analytical eyes. Reid's mind was working in overdrive. He wasn't going to get what he wanted, but he was determined not to be the only one who called out stupidly tonight.

"My turn," Reid announced deviously at Hotch as he decided on a new plan. For a moment Aaron wondered if he should be afraid of that look. Quirking a smile at Aaron, Reid leaned down, and darted his tongue tentatively along Aaron's erection. After a slow taste, Spencer quirked his brow, shrugged his shoulders, and Aaron froze, his own eyes going wide. When he realized what the younger man planned it was too late to say anything.

Spencer opened his mouth, and brought as much of the other man's straining flesh into him as he could. He'd done research, true, though he'd never allotted time for practice. He remembered all of the tips he had read though, and preformed them as per direction. Words couldn't teach you how to control your gag reflex, but he tried to take as much as he could hold.

An aggressive hiss from Aaron brought his attention back up from his task. Worried he was messing it up, he was about to apologize when Aaron's harsh voice pleaded, "D~don't stop…"

Giving his panting, unfocused boss an amused grin, Reid chuckled before continuing the attentions of his mouth. Stealing glances back at the dark haired man who was shivering under him, Spencer felt fairly assured that he was doing _something _right.

Aaron tried to keep still, to keep from bucking into the warm, wet mouth that pressed and sucked around him. The tongue which slid about while fingernails came behind and scratched lightly at tender skin. As Aaron's control began to slip, the long fingers skimmed up Hotch's perspiring skin. Following from his hip up his aching sides, the hand found and began stroking his lower abdomen. The other hand moved to grasp the quivering hip as the younger man's mouth worked on him.

Aaron found his hands sliding through brown locks as his own body trembled, heated and reverberated off Spencer's mouth.

Hotch had already been on edge just by helping Spencer come, and his own control was falling fast. He tried to get a warning out between his harsh gasps when he couldn't hold back any longer, but his words were a jumbled mess of nonsense. Reid gave him a short glance, put he didn't relent. Instead he doubled the pace, sucking even harder. A moment later the white light blinded Aaron's eyes as his body became completely undone.

Reid smiled as he now could safely boast that, no, he hadn't been the one to scream the louder, or the more incoherently, that night.

Aaron rubbed his forehead, the tension is his body released as his heart hammered in his chest and in his skull. His eyes cleared, eventually finding Reid who sat between his legs, a hand wiping at his mouth. "They said it would be bitter," Reid commented, giving Aaron an arrogant grin of his own. "I _so _won that one."

"I didn't know it was a contest, but," Aaron laughed, closing his eyes as he grabbed Reid's arm, pulling the man down into an embrace, "If that was you winning, I'd be happy to lose to you any time." He could feel Reid prop himself up, hands pressing into his chest, but he didn't open his eyes.

"Does that mean you're up for round two? I _might _let you win."

"I wish," Aaron grumbled, sliding a hand behind Reid's neck, he pulled the man down into a slow kiss. "Sorry, but my brain may explode with round two."

"Ah," Reid returned, tracing his finger along Aaron's collar bone, admiring the broad length of the shoulders underneath him. "That's all right. If we go to sleep now, we can wake up early tomorrow."

"Oh?" Aaron mumbled, still in the afterglow of climax.

"Yeah," Reid said, dropping his head over Aaron's shoulder, "Your headache should be gone, and then we'll have time for morning sex."

"That does sound good," Aaron nodded as he held Spencer, slipping butterfly kisses down his neck.

"Then there can be shower sex," Reid continued, "and kitchen sex, and coffee sex~"

"Coffee sex?" Aaron deadpanned to the man in his arms. Reid quirked his brow at his boss, giving him a bemused, lopsided grin.

"I told you I did research. It really is amazing what you can find on the Internet." Pulling his head down to Aaron's neck, Spencer began making a mark of his own. He also refused to be the only one hiding a hickey tomorrow.

When his work was complete, Aaron pulled the man up, walking him backwards to the bedroom. Though there was much more licking, kisses, and touching, they eventually relented long enough to allow for sleep.

Aaron awoke the next morning to find Spencer was nestled in his arms, his warm breath tickling his chest. The delights of that morning were two fold. One, his headache had abated, and two, they did have morning sex. Followed by shower sex, then kitchen sex. He also learned just what coffee sex was. Aaron reminded himself during their second shower, the one they needed to clean up from Reid's demonstrations, that he would have to think of a way to thank Reid for all his research.

As it stood, if they didn't hurry now they would be late. Turning to look to Spencer as they each went to their respective cars, Aaron called over to the man. "If you're late, I'll understand why, but," Aaron dropped his tone, assuming full boss mode. "You'll still be in trouble."

Reid raised his brows at Hotch, giving him a look that begged are _you kidding me_? "Hotch, are you offering to spank me if I'm not on time?"

Aaron left his car, door open, to give Spencer a quick kiss, "Don't be too late, but drive safe." Spencer gave a shy smile, eyes darting about as he mutely answered with a short nod.

When Aaron arrived at the BAU he wasn't late. Not for work, but he was a little later then he usually was. Morgan was already inside the office, and he could see Rossi walking down the ramp to the break room. Catching sight of Hotch, Morgan dropped what he was doing. A quick look over his shoulder assured him that Rossi was safely nestled in the break room. Standing, he left his desk to go to his boss.

He reached Hotch at the glass doors, and Aaron stared blankly at the man before him. "We can play this game forever," Morgan warned softly, though maintaining a body language that spoke ease to any passerby. "I won't make it easy for you. I'm never going to stop."

"Fine," Hotch gave his best stoic expression to the agent before him. A barely-there smile to Morgan, and a sincere, "Now if that's all?" were his only replies before he sidestepped the man and entering into the BAU.

Morgan watched the man go, shaking his head in disbelief. The elevator chimed once more, and the voice of Spencer called to Derek. Turning around his attentions focused to the point of contention between himself and Hotchner. "Hey, here," Reid smiled at Morgan, handing the man a warm cup of deli coffee. Morgan looked at it, then gave Reid a smile as he accepted the cup.

"Thanks kid," Morgan raised the cup, taking a sip as his eyes darted back to the bullpen. More specifically the figure that was currently entering his office. Derek moved to return to his desk, but long fingers gripped at the sleeve of his shirt.

"Hey Morgan, I um," Reid stood holding his own coffee in one hand, his messenger bag over his shoulder, and his knit scarf wrapped about his neck. That was his usual attire, but his eyes, and his posture, were different. He was also giving Morgan a troubled look.

"Reid?" Morgan asked, concern spilling out as the man before him bit his lip, his dark eyes dancing in thought.

"I uh, just wanted to ask, um," Reid closed his eyes, looking down at his shoes before turning them up to Derek, "Are we 'cool'?"

"What?" Morgan blanched, now very concerned by the young profiler's odd behavior.

"You seemed really upset yesterday, and I just… You're my best friend, and I just wanted to know if we're all right," Reid spoke words he was still trying to grasp. Morgan's heart fell as he shook his head.

"Naw way man," He returned, giving Reid a sincere smile, one he hoped conveyed the depths to which he felt for his friend. "I don't know what you saw, but you and me? We're _always _cool."

Reid breathed out a sigh of relief. Derek smiled, running his free hand up to ruffle the younger man's hair. Reid pulled back from the touch, as he always did, but he returned Derek's warm smile for his own. "That's really good to know. You see," Reid stepped up next to Derek, keeping his voice low, "The thing is," he looked pointedly up and down the hall before he continued, "I sort of told Hotch something _really _personal recently. I asked him to keep it between us, but it's something that's giving him more stress than is fair I suppose. He's been really strung-out lately, and I think it's my fault."

"Huh," Morgan stretching his jaw, running his tongue against the inside of his cheek, "Stressed because of what you told him?"

"Yeah," Reid breathed out, rocking back on his heels. "I actually stayed late at his place just trying different ways to get him to release that tension. Hey, could you do me a favor?" Reid turned pleading eyes up to Derek, and the other man froze under their persuasion.

"Sure man, what?"

"Could you try to take it easy around Hotch? Cause I swear, I'm running out of ideas that will get him to relax," Reid mumbled the last, giving Morgan an honest smile as he held the door open for his friend to the bullpen.

Morgan froze, looking at the dark eyes that smiled contently back at him. Shaking his head, he murmured, "Profilers," as he walked up to Reid, giving the younger man a warm pat on the stomach before they entered the bullpen.

Morgan couldn't contain the grin. He was proud. Proud of Reid for profiling him, and proud that his friend had essentially admitted to what was going on. He didn't use words, but the body language, and the tone he consciously chose to use, were another story. The things he didn't say spoke volumes.

_Point one for Reid_. Derek mused happily to himself.

Sitting behind his desk, Morgan still couldn't help shaking his head as a handsome grin went ear to ear. Noticing an old Jolly Rancher, he tossed the sweet at Reid, hitting the man's computer screen. Reid rolled his eyes at him, and Derek chuckled to himself.

"Wow," Prentiss commented as she watched the exchange from her desk, "It's so good to see that boys really never grow up."

"Ah, sounds like someone is just jealous they didn't get some delivered coffee this morning," Derek mused, holding up the white cup. Emily replied a stuck out tongue.

Derek continued to grin, sipping the warm beverage that was perfectly tuned with milk sweetened to his liking. He could do as Reid asked. He'd get off Hotch's back, a little bit. He could do that for Reid, because, after all, Spencer wasn't just his friend. He was his best friend.

Rossi emerged from the break room, tilting his head at the warm atmosphere in the bullpen. His eyes moved over from Morgan to Reid. Spencer, noticing the attention, breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw it was Rossi. Before attempting to return to whatever work Derek was currently attempting to keep him from, Reid gave the senior profiler a heartfelt, lopsided grin. Returning the warm smile for one of his own, Rossi hoisted his mug at the man.

Slowly shaking his head as more antics ensued from their younger profilers, Rossi went up the ramp toward his office. His steps slowed, and he found himself hesitating as he neared the door to Hotch. He was going to continue past, but taking in a breath he decided, "To hell with it."

Reaching up David knocked lightly on the frame of the door.

Aaron looked up stiffly from his paperwork, relaxing when it was Rossi that greeted his sight instead of Morgan. "Can I come in?" The senior profiler asked, and Hotch gave a nod and a small inclination of his head when Rossi gestured to the door.

"What's up," Aaron asked, signing a document and sliding it to the out box on the corner of his desk. Rossi breathed out, closing the door. Turning to face Aaron, he walked to the other man's desk. Setting the cup down, he took the seat across from Hotch. He waited artfully until Aaron removed his eyes from the work before him and granted the man his full attention.

"I think it's time we 'cleared the air,'" Rossi said, folding his hands in his lap. The pen in Aaron's hand fell forgotten to the desk for the second time in two days.

TBC~

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'Whew' to finishing the sex chapter as promised! They'll be more… things… later.


	8. Chapter 8

Summary: Rossi "comes clean" and Hotch is confused.

Warnings: Recapping and delving into a lot of actual Criminal Minds episodes in season three and four. Slashy talking, not much walking…yet.

Copyrights: Criminal Minds belongs to CBS, not me. I can wish though.

Special Thanks: Starofoberon for Beta, kisses, and thank you to all the people who reviewed.

**The Unexpected**

Jess once asked Aaron to profile her. He refused, because he didn't want to dissect the woman with an impersonal profile, categorizing her into a neatly packaged box. They were profilers though, they were trained to examine what they saw, what they heard. When you were to close to a subject it could produce one of two out comes. Either the profile was achingly accurate, or it was completely wrong.

There was a reason Intra-team profiling wasn't permitted, but they couldn't help noticing things. It was their job.

Aaron sat dumbfounded, looking at the discarded pen on his desk. Partly he wondered if this was just an early morning delusion, that maybe what happened had been the workings of his imagination. He couldn't wrap his head around it. Hell, he wasn't even sure what had just happened! Recounting the moment over and over again didn't seem to clear the fog in his mind.

Rossi had sat across from Aaron, his hands folded neatly in his lap.

"I think it's time we cleared the air," the older man said nonchalantly, though his eyes were dark, focused.

Aaron dropped his pen. Silently, he leaned back, and wondered how many more times he would need to field people in his office. Whatever happened to the good old days when people came in because they had PTSD? Well, maybe those weren't good days, Aaron amended, but at least then he wasn't the one being driven to said disorder.

"I, um, know what you're thinking," Rossi cleared his throat, dodging Aaron's stoic stare. Standing, the older man looked out the window, his eyes examining the bullpen. Aaron saw the light traces of a smile pull at Rossi's lips before he turned back, confidence renewed. "I saw it yesterday, at your house." Rossi was hinting, and Aaron wasn't about to avow anything that wasn't clearly laid out before him. Folding his own hands over his desk, he continued to watch Rossi, waiting for the man to be more blunt.

"Saw what, exactly?" Aaron asked when his colleague didn't come forward with a less vague response.

"It's all right," Rossi shook his head, "You know what I'm talking about. I haven't acted. Mostly because I wasn't sure what I should do, but I'm tired of just watching. Waiting."

"David? " Aaron kept his voice even, his gaze firm.

"You know me," Rossi shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets. "You were here when I was chasing more office tail then a wolfhound. Some of that tail wasn't in a skirt either." He raised one cunning eye to Aaron, grinning lightly, "I'm no saint, though I suppose I don't have to tell you that. Even you have to admit though," and Rossi gave Aaron his full attention, "I may still be a cocky son-of-a-bitch, but I'm not that way anymore. I think this is different. As Unit Chief I know your hands are tied by regulations, and some of those tailored off my past behaviors. I'm offering a shortcut through all the bull."

"You're being extremely hard to pin~" Aaron said, then Davie cut him off.

"I'm going to tell Spencer."

Aaron closed his eyes, the displeasure something he couldn't mask. Oh yes, of course it was Reid. He figured that was what Dave was getting at. There was no more favorite topic in his unit at the moment.

"Tell him _what_, exactly," Aaron gave an evil eye to the older man, who raised his hands in mock defense.

"What we've _both _been wise to for a while now," Rossi said, "As I said, clear the air, get it out in the open. I wanted to come to you first before I went to him. You can't stop me, but I wanted you aware of my intentions so you're not caught off guard later. I'm just trying to do things the best possible way. Make it easier on everyone."

So Rossi wanted to talk to Reid about what? Aaron's attraction for their youngest profiler?

Hotch was keenly aware of Rossi's presence since he returned to the BAU. Even then, before he'd admitted to himself that he cared more then he should for Spencer. He wouldn't admit it to himself, but he was assuredly not going to confess it unconsciously through his actions. Rossi was an outside profiler with insight into Aaron. It was a dangerous situation to be sure. However, the years apart helped, because he wasn't in Aaron's office that night asking him questions like, "So, you're into skinny young men now?" That had been his belief.

Hotch made a point of not being around Spencer, often sending the two men out in the field together. Eventually, Hotch relaxed his guard some, and tried to return to his own version of normalcy. It was at one of those times that he became aware of the connection Rossi had made with Reid. The two were offering to go off of their own volition, and at some points they didn't even ask. They just told him, "I want to check this out Hotch,"and the other's reply, "I'll go with you," was not far behind.

Perhaps that was a backfire in his plan. Rossi became invested in Reid, taking an interest in the younger SSA. In doing so, of course, he became more cognizant of things around or directed toward Reid.

Once more Aaron found that he was not surprised that someone had caught on to his attraction to youngest of their team.

Did David think he was helping Aaron out? Though any interference was not welcome, at least this was a complete 180-degree reverse of Morgan's take on the relationship. However acute his perceptions were though, Rossi apparently believed that Aaron and Reid were still in their respective closets.

"Well, you're right," Aaron said. "I can't stop you from talking to him" – because he couldn't. Muzzling the older man was an idea, but that could only work for so long. Rossi did what Rossi wanted to do. "But Dave." Hotch gave the other man a cold look. "I urge you to remember that my first concern is the functionality of this team, and that includes Reid. If you do anything to damage that–"

"Loud and clear. Don't worry, I'll be discreet," David said, smiling as he went to the door. He turn back as he opened it. "So, I have your blessing?"

"Blessing? You were the one who said I couldn't stop you," Aaron pointed out, watching Rossi grin in response.

"No, no, you're right. With or without your blessing, either way, I promise to use kid gloves with him."

Kid gloves? Blessing? Looking down at his desk, Aaron wondered about the tone and glint in the older man's eyes. Now he started to question just what had happened. He hadn't held out Reid's unreasonable hope that their private lives would remain private, although, to his credit, he had yet to actually articulate an admittance to anything, regardless of all the innuendos and "talks" he was receiving.

Dropping his head into his hands, Aaron knew one thing that would come of it. Rossi's talk with Reid might somehow get it through to his lover that, no, it couldn't be kept secret. Reid was unaware of it, but the number of bodies that knew was gaining on them.

o-O-o

For David, it was all very clear, and had been for a long time.

It had started the moment Aaron had introduced David Rossi to the team. Hotch's introductions eventually arrived upon Doctor Spencer Reid, who began eagerly to ask Rossi questions on his works with psycholinguistics.

The rest of the teams reactions when Reid opened his mouth were not lost on Rossi. Morgan looked worriedly at Aaron, his eyes silently pleading their boss to make it stop. Aaron actually had his oh, shit stoic look in place. Yes, David could still sometimes read what lay behind that blank mask that the man liked to switch on. It was as though they were all watching, waiting for an approaching train wreck.

David gave the blundering man a smile and thanked him, making sure to refer to him as Doctor just as Hotch had done. Later he realized Aaron had made sure to call the youngest by his title as a benefit for David's sake more than for the young profiler.

At first impression, Reid felt like another one of his groupies. It wasn't until later when they were on a case and Reid quoted the man's book word for word that David's opinion changed. A groupie could know his book, but Reid quoted it word for word. Did that make him very, very studious, or did that make him the kind of stalker-crazy he needed to be worried about?

Morgan's, "Oh trust me, we know," when Dave commented on it caused a shared secret smile about the group. Hotch even laughed! Rossi couldn't help but feel that they were actually laughing at him and not Reid. They had a secret. Reid continued to quote, right from where he left off, again word for word.

This time Derek's hand crossed his throat, signaling Reid to stop. Reid did stop, fidgeting, with a sorry to Rossi.

At that moment, Rossi knew he was in trouble.

He was acutely aware that Spencer Reid was smart, even without the introduction of the title "Doctor." In his retirement, Gideon wrote him occasionally, though never about work. Not until one day he wrote about a man he couldn't seem to stop talking about. He'd even gone as far to say that this young recruit could be the most dangerous force the FBI had in its arsenal. Intellectually speaking, obviously, because looking at the Spencer Reid his old friend had spoken of, Rossi was positive it couldn't be attributed to his physique.

Though Rossi loved Gideon to death, he'd punch him out should he ever see his old friend again. Rossi understood leaving. He got that. He didn't know the particulars, and what he did know was really bad. However, the way he disappeared into the sunset had given his old team a mind fuck. It wasn't so bad that it required a physiological examination, but it was as obvious as their shadows – always there, but never acknowledged.

During his initiation to the team, Prentiss was exuberant, though she did remind him a little of a groupie. Aaron was relieved though guarded, Morgan was like the group's bulldog, and Reid? He was still young, especially given all his accomplishments, but what Gideon did to that boy was inexcusable as far as Rossi was concerned.

Gideon had tried to mold the man into his own version of the perfect profiler, and then tried to guard him to the point he was still like a stunted child.

David eventually became aware, after he'd gotten past the group's initial hazing, that they were all watching and waiting for him to take Reid under his wing. One thing they couldn't get through their heads was that David had no interest in nurturing. He didn't come back to baby-sit, he came back to work!

That didn't stop Aaron from making sure they were paired up repeatedly in the field. When he received the request to review documents retrieved from an old storage container, Rossi actually wanted to slap Aaron across the back of his head when he was told. "Take Reid with you." A storage room full of documents to go through, and Aaron wanted him to baby-sit?

That day was the second time Rossi knew he wasn't just in trouble. He was in over his head.

Reid was a godsend. Page after page he flipped through, book after book, while Rossi was still analyzing the first text his hands found. When Spencer finished with his own stack of documents, he slid over to Rossi, pulling out the pages he felt were most important. He'd read them all, and had already done a thorough handwriting analysis of the work.

Rossi asked a question, and Reid quoted any of the pages he'd already perused, deferring to Rossi's experience. It should have taken them days – no, a week at least – to finish as thorough an analysis of the works as they had accomplished. They'd arrived mid-morning and were done by that evening in time for dinner.

From that moment on, Rossi never had a contention when Reid was partnered with him. He still wouldn't take him in as a kid he was supposed to protégé. Instead, he treated him like he would any other SSA he worked with. The fact that he absorbed like a sponge was interesting. No, wait, actually it was fun. However, Rossi didn't need to mold Reid.

That was the part he never understood about what Gideon had done. Reid was a human being, not a piece of clay. Who you are and what you become are things every person needs to discover on their own. Trying to shape someone into something only makes them more fragile, and constantly unsure of just who, or what, they actually were.

Then again, who was Rossi to judge? What happened was over and done with. It helped to bring them to the present, but it was just that. The past.

The first time Rossi knew he was in trouble, it was because he was admiring the mind behind dark eyes nestled in a handsome, ingenuous face. The time he knew he was in over his head was when he realized that there was so much hiding in that thin, shy frame. When it wasn't in hiding, it made long limbs fluid in motion, speech becoming articulate with elegance as information came bubbling out faster then Reid's mouth could keep up with. He admired, respected, and was driven toward what he saw with awe. Rossi knew at that moment he wanted Reid.

There were several reasons he didn't follow through with the stirring of his attractions. One, it was obvious the team looked out for Reid. Coddling him. Rossi didn't approve of it, but the innocence in him was something that everyone wanted to help preserve. He could understand why, though again he shrunk away from the idea merely because he was reminded of the skittish, scattered man he'd first met.

Then there was the bulldog, Derek Morgan. Rossi didn't have a phobia of dogs though, and Morgan had finally accepted David into the fold. Morgan may not have seen him as a threat anymore, but Rossi knew that would change should he act. However, with the mindset of throwing caution to the wind, Rossi knew that by the time Morgan was aware of what was going on it would be far too late to do anything about it.

There was only one last obstacle to clear. All right, admittedly there were two, but only one that gave him pause to stop all together. Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner.

If Morgan was the bulldog, Aaron was akin to a mama bear, or a hornet's nest. Something like that.

Back when David first met Aaron Hotchner, he was the new agent coming into the BAU in Rossi's heyday.

Rossi never _actually _had to do much chasing in regards to the skirts though. He was the type of man who could walk into a room, point, jerk his thumb, and be in the bathroom five minutes later with someone's underwear hitting the floor.

That being said, the garment hitting the floor wasn't always coming from under a skirt.

David was a man who loved to love and be loved. He didn't care for which team he batted, as long as he made it to the plate. When Aaron was the new recruit, and it was Rossi sitting with seniority, David had about four other agents on a line as well as his second wife. It was an impressive juggling act.

It was also the cause for cause of needing to clear the air now. Aaron knew how he was, or at least how he used to be.

Aaron was the one to flippantly pair the two up out in the field. Maybe because he also hoped Rossi would mentor Reid, but it could also have been to keep him away from JJ and Prentiss. There was the more practical reason for it as well. One that became more clear each time David and Reid worked together. Their interactions eased, becoming fluid as they often knew the path the other man's mind took. When conjoining Rossi's experience and intuitive mind with Reid's robust knowledge and quick thinking, the outcome was awe inspiring.

Maybe the very last thing that did Rossi in was that it felt like Reid completed him, and together they were a whole of a puzzle he wasn't aware existed.

Eventually they didn't wait for Hotch to order them off together. Either Reid, or Rossi, would offer to go with the other. A couple times of that and soon Aaron was giving David a very well guarded _what the fuck _look.

Rossi deserved it. Aaron remembered Rossi as the man-whore that he was.

It was true. He was attracted to Reid, but he didn't pursue it simply because he could handle his baser urges. This was different though. What revealed his affection for Reid as more then his usual lustful romp was when they were confronted by Professor Rothschild.

The professor got his rocks off insulting David, taunting him with the powers of his _intellect _and the five he had abducted and hidden, the woman and children he intended to kill should they not find them in time. The insults Rossi could handle, but when that became apparent to Rothschild, he went for the one thing David wouldn't give him. Reid.

Criminals often make some of the best profilers, and Rossi was silently kicking himself in the ass each time the Professor would politely note, "I'd like to speak with Doctor Reid now."

That was his game from the start. He'd come out of hiding to piss off Rossi. It was personal, though Rossi didn't know why.

He looked into the interrogation room after hours of back-and-forth with the sick bastard. Rossi was struggling with his own feelings of doubt when Hotch entered. Hotch was having doubts as well, and he suggested giving the sick son of a bitch exactly what he wanted. Reid.

Rossi actually lost it on Aaron at that moment. Aaron stood there, silent, blank as a sheet as he stared at Rossi lose it. Rossi was right. He had Rothschild pinned, and giving him Reid wouldn't give them any new angle, but his protests were too strong. He let his feelings for the younger profiler into his voice. Hell, he about screamed it.

Screaming it to another was what had caused him to realize the truth himself. This _was _different.

It wasn't long after that David noticed that if he was with Reid, Hotchner was either there or in the next room. Eventually Aaron relented some, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Hotch was just waiting for Rossi to make a move. That is where Rossi felt that Aaron was like a mama bear, or a hornets nest. Take your pick, but whack it with a stick and you better be running.

Rossi didn't plan to do any whacking when he woke up, but the exchange of last night still hung with him.

Rossi never played with quotations with Reid in front of the other team members. It was a private indulgence for long car rides or the moment that presented an opportunity. It was something they shared. They never agreed that it be a secret between them, it was just how it was. Reid had issued him a quote first, and Rossi returned with one of his own. Rossi noticed Aaron's look at Rossi in that moment, the confusion there, an unnamed fear cutting into his stony features.

David saw the mama bear's ears perk up. Rossi surmised that Aaron presumed he had already made moves on their genius. It wasn't true. Well, he flirted, even the quote was a subtle pass, but he _was _a flirt.

This is what birthed his hesitation as he approached Hotch's office, torn between admitting that nothing was going on, and confessing that something soon would be. He didn't wake up this morning and decide that today was the day. He never actually thought this day would come. However, it was here, and Rossi's answer to the dilemma he had played off in his mind came down to a simple, "To hell with it."

Thankfully, it was easier then he thought it would be. He left Hotch's office in sure strides, not running for the hills.

Once he had confronted Aaron, who was not exactly approving but aware, Rossi merely had to let his charms win Spencer Reid over. His last obstacle was the easy part. David was fairly sure on this point, because he was the kind of guy who got what he set his sights on. It was just how he was.

The connection was already there. He simply had to pull the other man in, and David loved fishing. Attempting to do something that resembled work that morning, Rossi reviewed a couple of old case files. Selecting several interesting cases, he went down to Reid's desk and asked the man if he'd join him for a semi-work related lunch.

Reid gave a happy nod, locking his computer, before slipping his messenger bag on his shoulders. Rossi handed the young doctor the files, and they headed out of the office. Even now Reid's long legs eased in their strides while his mind took action. It was nice to watch the elegance that came through when his over active brain had something to concentrate on.

Rossi held the door open for Reid, because even if his grace did increase, his attention to the world about him took a hiatus. Once he made sure the younger man made it safely to the elevator, David graced Reid with one more look before hitting the button for the garage level.

Rossi wouldn't make his move today. There was no need to rush things. He'd already been waiting a long time, and this weekend they'd soon find themselves sharing a two bed hotel room outside Berkeley, headed for another recruitment speech to give the eager young minds of the world. With luck… No, screw luck. With the powers of the great charms that he was blessed with, David Rossi was already imagining how only one bed would be required.

Right now, everything was looking good.

There was one major flaw in both Aaron and Rossi's assumptions though. They had each thought they were reading the other, someone they knew on a very personal level. Though sometimes things could be eerily accurate, they weren't always clear. Being too close could cloud your perception. Sometimes you could be dead wrong.

Intra-team profiling wasn't permitted for a reason, but they couldn't help to notice things. It was their job.

TBC~

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

I have no idea why I'm into double posts. Because I can? I'll take this opportunity to admit enjoying Rossi/Reid as well.


	9. Chapter 9

Summary: Reid sings, Rossi's plans run awry.

Warnings: Rossi/Reid, Hotch/Reid, mild slash, adult themes.

Copyrights: Criminal Minds belongs to CBS, not me. I can wish though.

Special Thanks: Starofoberon, for making the reading much more enjoyable through Beta. Again, a big fat thank you to everyone who reviewed!

**Four Letter Word**

Reid didn't know what to do, what the correct response should be. In the back of his mind, he wondered if this is what it had been like for Hotch. Cornered, pinned to a wall with another's mouth trying to gain entrance. His mind was foggy, and he couldn't break away. He didn't know what to do, and all he could think about was Aaron. In the end Reid did the one thing he'd never thought he would do.

He passed out.

Rossi had invited him to review some files over lunch, his treat. Reid had dismissed the subtle hand that brushed over his, the smile, the compliments. He returned the smile for his own, and happily enjoyed Rossi praising him. Neither was out of his element with the other. It was how they were, though a small part of Reid was eating away at himself – an unconscious warning that made no sense. He didn't need to be wary of Rossi. He was his friend, and he trusted the man. With this, the instinctive concern in him was buried.

That night, Reid returned to his apartment. He needed to gather materials from his personal library and prepare for the trip to San Francisco. Had he not spent the other night in Aaron's bed, he could have done this yesterday. He wasn't complaining the reason for missing out on their movie night, but he was sad he couldn't see Jack.

He was about to call over, when his phone rang. Jack's young voice was on the other side, chewing him out, and Reid hid a chuckle as he took the beating. He wasn't allowed to hang up before he promised both the Hotchner men that he would make up for their missed date by coming over as soon as his plane landed Sunday evening.

"Did you talk with Rossi today," Hotch asked when he was able to get the phone back from his son.

"Yeah, we had lunch at the Bistro on 8th," Reid said as he packed his toothbrush into his suitcase. Looking at the object, he thought of food, and food went to bananas, and from there it went to banana chips. "Hey, tell Jack I'll get him a present," Spencer smiled into the receiver.

"That's not necessary," Aaron returned, "You don't have to spoil him."

"It's not spoiling him if I want to do it," Reid hummed, finding some clean clothes in his closet that looked the most 'professional,' "It's spoiling myself."

"Well, in that case it's all right I suppose."

"How about you? Would you like a souvenir?" Reid asked as he sat on the bulging suitcase, though it did little to help the pack close. The line went silent for a while. Spencer began to mentally kick himself, wondering if that wasn't the right thing to ask someone you just slept with. "I mean, like, if you had anything in mind. Of course though we do travel all the time, but we never get the chance to actually stop anywhere and look through the native crafts or heritage. If you don't~"

"How about you coming back safely?" Aaron cut him off, and Reid would have breathed out in relief, except he'd just expended his full air supply. Instead he settled for breathing in.

"I fully intend to do that," Reid smiled as he flipped the last latch on the luggage. Looking at the container's odd shape, he guessed he might have packed quite a bit more than was really needed. He should be able to pack a case and talk on the phone, but it was Aaron, so he wasn't paying attention to what he threw in there. "Sorry, I should have prepared for this earlier." He sighed opening up the luggage to review exactly what he'd shoved inside. "Jack's not too mad, is he?"

"He's currently pouting and holding Mr. Floppy," Hotch gave a small laugh, "it actually reminds me a lot of you."

"Since I _don't _pout, I know you're talking about Mr. Floppy. In which case I don't see a correlation." There was a laugh on the other end, and Spencer could hear Jack's voice calling to his father.

"I have to go," Aaron said, "Call me tomorrow?"

"That should be hard, since someone decided to only budget us a one room for our hotel stay," Reid sighed as he now had taken too much out of the suitcase and it sat nearly empty. "But, I'll find a way. Even if I have to go for a late night ice bucket run."

"I'll talk to you later then," Aaron warmly said as Jack's voice grew more insistent.

"Okay, bye," Reid quickly said as he hung up the phone. He dropped the device onto his bed, giving it a disapproving look. He was half expecting one of them to say it. Reid never knew he dreaded that word so much, until now. He couldn't bring himself to do that, and he didn't want Hotch to either.

Sex didn't make it real, and saying it didn't make it real. He didn't want either of them to say it as an offhanded remark or because they felt that's what was expected. Maybe Spencer already did mean it, but if he were to say it, would that ruin what they had? If Hotch said it as easily as saying "good bye," that would mean that there was no worth to the word either. He liked to think there was more sentiment in the word then that. Rubbing his hands over his face, he put his brain's workings on halt to focus on repacking his luggage for the trip tomorrow.

He never thought he would be afraid of a four letter word before.

Rossi came by his house in the morning, on time and with a fresh cup of sugared coffee to boot. Happily accepting the cup, Reid relaxed as they drove to the airport. The hassles of boarding a plane were a small consideration when it came down to it. Reid enjoyed only one aspect of these recruitment seminars he and Rossi were so often marked into attending. That part was picking Rossi's brain.

Rossi let his brain be picked, though he wanted Reid to form an opinion on his own before he'd share his own views on a subject. Spencer thoroughly enjoyed this method of discourse. He didn't have to worry about his ideas swaying Rossi. Come on, it was David Rossi. That, and the older man would actually listen to what he had to say. Though Spencer knew everyone in his family of profilers cared for him deeply, with the rest of them, their eyes went dead when he started to go off on a tangent. Rossi actually listened and either countered, or supported his assertions.

The recruitment speech was another story. Reid tried to engage the young audience, but it was always a failure. When the crowd of college kids looked at him with a muted expression of loss, Rossi would always pull them back onto topic, literally saving the day as far as Reid, and the intentions of the FBI were concerned. They saw several groups in hour-long discussions so Rossi saved said day more then once.

Sighing as they left the campus, Reid contemplated ways to get his name removed from the Bureau's recruitment speakers list.

"It'll never happen," Rossi said to the moping man as he unlocked the rental car. To Reid's questioning look, Rossi gestured at the grounds of the campus, "You're going to be doing this until someone younger comes into the BAU. In other words, stop wondering how you can get out of the recruitments. You're stuck with these for a long, long, _long _time."

"It's really not fair," Reid grumbled, entering the sedan. "It always goes fine until I have to talk. You'd do better with Prentiss or Morgan. Morgan would be excellent, I bet he'd get their attention and hold it."

"Morgan could hold their attention, true," Rossi said as he started the car, "But they wouldn't remember a thing he said. Morgan would inspire more drooling then questions." Reid gave a disgruntled affirmation with that assessment.

"True, but Prentiss would still work out better then me."

"Prentiss could get the information across," Rossi noted, "but she's intimidating. She'd scare off half the people we could get interested enough to apply."

"I'm pretty sure I scare off all potential applicants." Reid grumbled, remembering the room of blank faces staring at him. Rossi actually laughed, and it was fairly infectious because Reid then recalled how he had made the students drool – because they had turned comatose.

"You, and this is a compliment by the way, don't scare anyone," Rossi chuckled as he drove up one of the area's steep hills. "How about we get something to eat before we check in?"

"Hmm, sure," Reid said, still silently holding out hope that Garcia might be persuaded to do a little hacking for him when they got back. Rossi grinned to himself as he spotted the perfect restaurant. When he parked and Reid exited the car, the genius doctor stopped, eyes looking up at the sign.

"You know," Reid said, backing up, "I think I want pizza. Italian food. Yeah." He turned away, but Rossi grabbed the quickly retreating man by his arm and began leading him toward the door.

"We're in San Francisco," Rossi said as he lead the way to the hostess stand. "Not New York. Here, we eat sushi." Reid actually shuddered when a woman greeted them in a traditional kimono. She lead them through the entrance to the bar.

Once he was sure Reid wouldn't bolt for the door, Rossi released the younger man into the stool in front of the sous chef who was of Polynesian decent. The man was sharpening a long, thick blade behind the glass bar that contained an assortment of iced fish. Reid mirrored the look of one of the chilled fish that was staring out at him.

"I'll have the green tea, the soba, a meso soup, and your house eel roll," Rossi told the server without even perusing the menu. He tapped Reid's shoulder, pulling his attention from his silent conversation with the fish head. "Reid?"

"Uh~" Reid blinked, darting eyes back to the fish head staring him down.

"Just double my order, darling." Rossi smiled at the young woman who took their menus.

"Can you add a fork to that?" Reid whispered to the woman as she passed by. Rossi raised up a twenty behind Spencer, giving her a mouthed _No_.

The woman's eyes darted from the desperate looking Reid to the dead president staring her down. "No, I'm sorry, we don't have forks."

Reid hung his head low, deflating as Rossi gave the woman a wink and a nod. When she returned with the drinks, he slipped her the twenty and she eagerly attended them the rest of their meal.

Reid attempted to eat his meal, but it refused to enter his mouth. Rossi held up his chopsticks, showing the younger man how to hold the long utensils. Reid imitated the form, but when he tried to move them, they either flipped out of his fingers, or didn't open at all.

"This is insane!" Reid said, exasperated, at the eel roll. Stabbing it with one of his chopsticks, he cheered in triumph at finally managing to bring food to his mouth. The roll held until just before reaching his lips, but then it fell apart into his lap. Grabbing it with a napkin, he tossed it back onto his plate, slamming his utensils over the sushi plate.

"Reid, that's a sign you're done!" Rossi pointed out, already waving away the very, very attentive server who started to head their way. "You haven't eaten anything but the soup."

"I'll live," Reid crossed his arms, giving the food a challenging tilt of his head.

"If you lose any more weight, you might not," Rossi said, sliding his chair closer to Reid. He picked up the chopsticks, motioning for Reid to take them. Reid's lower lip began to push out, but Rossi shot him a warning look that sucked it back in.

Grasping the utensils, he paused when Rossi didn't release them. Sliding his hand up Reid's, he adjusted the fingers around the chopsticks until the grasp was correct. "Now," Rossi continued as he kept his fingers over Reid's, he used his hand to push on Reid's fingers, opening the chopsticks. They shuddered in Reid's fingers, threatening to slip. Rossi's voice came over Reid's shoulder. "You're holding them too hard. You need to relax a little."

"Easy for you to say," Reid fidgeted at the breath on his neck. He was nervous to the point he was focusing on just controlling his shaking. Rossi wasn't letting him back down. The one thing Reid had always held true so far was that Rossi had never let him down before. He was proud of that. However, Rossi never made him do things, not like this.

Tilting his head to crack the tightening in his neck, Reid silently wished one of two things. One, that Rossi didn't have a bug up his ass for sushi, or two, that he'd had the forethought to have Hotch teach him how to use chopsticks. Suppressing a grin, Reid stored that idea for later. The thought of Aaron instructing him helped the genius to relax his grip some, and Rossi gave him an approving, "Better."

After several attempts, and a fumbling of eel and rice, one piece of roll actually made it past Reid's lips. Reid raised his chopsticks in triumph, and Rossi grasped the man's shoulder a quick, "Well done."

Reid blushed when Rossi's approval was met with the cheering of the restaurant staff and fellow patrons. Dropping his arm back from over his head, he gave Rossi a pleading look. "Okay, success. Now just please don't ask me to do it again."

"Sure," Rossi smiled, dropping his own chopsticks over his empty dish. Paying the server, David excused himself to the restroom.

The sous chef, who had a stoic look that could give Hotch's face a run for its money, slammed his cleaver into the chopping board behind the counter. Reid jumped, and had the inclination to run when the man kept that gaze planted firmly on him. Reaching down under the counter, the cook pulled out a ceramic jug with one hand, and two small saucer cups with the other. "On the house," he said in a thick accent as he filled one cup, sliding it over to Reid. Taking the other for himself, the chef raised it to his mouth waiting for Spencer to do the same.

Reid obliged, truly out of fear of offending the cleaver-wielding chef. He had just watched that man skin innumerable fish with painful efficiency behind the glass during the course of his wayward meal.

"For determination in the face of obstacles. To not giving up, kanpai!" The cook yelled, taking a swig of the drink. Reid hesitantly returned the cheer, swallowing his own.

"No, wait! Reid, that's~" Rossi was too late in returning to the bar to stop the man.

There was something else Reid had never done before tonight, and that was drink sake.

The first toast had been on the house, the second that followed was the same, and was for, "Being a man, for now having had sake!" Rossi tried to decline on Spencer's behalf, but the look he got from the chef cut him short. David also recalled how easily the man could fillet a fish. The third was paid for by the waitress whom he tipped the twenty. She winked at Rossi as another round of _Kanpai _rang throughout the restaurant.

Rossi held his head in his hand, silently wishing that people wouldn't try to help him.

Reid was pleased with two points as he was led fairly buzzed from the car to the hotel room. One, he'd managed to not disappoint Rossi, and two, he had an idea for Sunday night that he thought might be fun. He didn't know if sake would be a returning factor in that event, but it could be. He wasn't smashed, it was only a shot. No, wait, three. In his defense, he _was _running on an empty stomach save some broth and piece of an eel roll.

Even on a full stomach he and alcohol held a love-hate relationship at best.

Rossi had been in a high mood until Reid had become inebriated, buzzed, _whatever_. He had considered their unofficial date a success even considering that. However, now? He might be considered a dog by some people, but he did have standards. One of those was that he didn't take advantage of someone blatantly not in control of all their faculties.

Reid really wasn't drunk, but he was stumbling every couple of steps, his face flushed a fair shade of pink. Even if it hadn't been for his fumbling steps, there was the other thing. It was what had David guessing the man beside him was more inclined toward being drunk then buzzed. Reid was singing.

"_Jeremiah was a bullfrog! Was a good friend of mine~"_

"Oh, god, _please _stop," Rossi sighed as he opened the door to their room.

"_Never understood a single word he said, but I helped him drink his wine~"_

He opened the door, dropping their bags inside, and turned when the singing voice didn't follow into the room.

_"Jo~~y to the world. To a~ll the boys and girls!" _Reid has his arms wide, his head tilted back as he bellowed in the hall of the hotel. Rossi went back to the door. A woman and her child were in the hallway giving the young FBI agent a very strange, yet well deserved, look.

"Reid," Rossi pulled his forefinger at the younger man, directing him to enter the room. When he didn't oblige, Rossi sighed, putting his hand on his hip as he debated his options. Currently he had two. Either pulling the man in, or closing the door in his face.

_"Joy to the fi~shes~ _Ughhh!" He went with pulling as he grabbed Reid's tie and yanked him into their room. Giving the staring woman and her child a polite nod, he closed the door.

"Nosy people," Rossi murmured as he looked back to find Reid lying on the floor. "Reid, are you _sure _you're not drunk?"

"I'm _not _drunk," Reid said, tapping his shoes off with his toes. "I'm relaxing."

"Yeah, and a moment ago you were singing," Rossi shook his head, his disappointment in the outcome of their weekend away weighing on him. Stepping over the man's lanky limbs, Rossi accepted the fact that this would not be the romantic one-bed-needed weekend he had hoped for. Reid's hand reached out, grabbing Rossi's ankle after he'd passed about his head.

"I was singing, because I felt like singing." Reid turned sparkling eyes and a warm smile up toward Rossi. His cheeks were still tinged pink as he smiled at the man above him, and Rossi froze at how adorable he wished he weren't finding Spencer at this moment.

"Thanks for teaching me," Reid mumbled, imitating the motion of chopsticks with his fingers as he released the ankle. The genius on the floor brought up his arms to nuzzle his head. "Never thought I'd do that," Reid chuckled, beaming with pride as he closed his eyes.

Rossi had already surrendered, and he didn't know when. The corner of his mouth pulled up as he leaned down to help the decidedly drunk man into his bed. Pulling Reid up, he was greeted by a muffled protest at his attempt. After a bit of positioning, Rossi held Spencer's arm over his shoulder.

"I can stand," Reid fussed, trying to straighten up and move away, but he had shifted his weight too quickly and fell backwards into the wall of the hotel room. "Yeah, not doing sake again," he said as he shook his head, hands moving to rub his face.

Rossi sighed, moving up to Spencer, who silently conceded the fact that he might need help. When David grabbed hold of his offered arm though, he didn't help pull him back towards his bed. Reid looked up, trying to focus on the man who was standing in front of him. Rossi was just standing there, looking at him. His eyes were deep in thought, and Reid waited, quirking up his brow at the older man. He waited, wondering what was causing him such deep contemplation. Reid knew Rossi would share whatever was mulling in those depths. It's how they were.

Reid blinked. His arm pulled back when his eyes registered a familiar look, but it was in the wrong face. Rossi let the arm retract, but he followed it, stepping up closer to Reid. The distance closed, and Reid's eyes went wide when Rossi crossed the last breath of the distance, bringing their lips together.

Reid didn't know what to do, what the correct response should be.

In the back of his mind, Reid wondered if whether that was it had been like for Hotch – cornered, pinned to a wall with another man's mouth trying to gain entrance. He'd done the same thing to Aaron. This wasn't Hotch though, and the gruffness of Rossi's beard scratched against his face, reaffirming that thought.

He saw Aaron's emotions in Rossi's face, but he didn't, couldn't, reciprocate that feeling. Reid didn't want this kiss. Hotch didn't want the first kiss Reid gave him either, though.

This was different then what he'd done to Hotch, Reid silently insisted. It had to be, because if what he was feeling right now was what Hotch felt, then he was sure a piece of himself would die for making Aaron feel this way. His brain instantly tried to compensate for his body's seizing up by working into overdrive.

He couldn't think of anything useful for correcting his current situation. All his thoughts kept circling back to Aaron.

With Aaron, he wanted to kiss the other man, he wanted to feel his skin. He even braved being forward enough to push into having sex with him, because he wanted Hotch to know how much he wanted him. Reid had tried hard to get his point across, afraid Hotch would pull away if given the chance. He would, it wasn't a question of _if_. Yet, still, Reid had pushed for it. He'd pushed Hotch.

The mouth pressed to his withdrew. Reid's eyes darted about, but he wasn't trying to search the room. He was trying to rein his mind back, to stop its searching, to keep it from following this train of thought. What it was telling him was something he knew, but didn't want to accept. He tried to show it, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. Not even in the safety of his own mind. He couldn't stop his thoughts, though. It was already too late.

He didn't want Hotch to feel like he'd forced his emotions on him. Even the notion made him ache. The last thing he'd ever want to do would be to hurt Aaron.

That fucking horrible four letter word rang in his head as the room began to spin.

There was only one person in his mind that he had ever associated with love. Reid was proud of it, because he was sure that he loved her as much as she loved him. Maybe hers was greater, maybe it was his. He didn't know, but it didn't matter. That was the pinnacle of it, and he was entirely certain of it. It really _didn't _matter, because it was love.

An amazing, compelling, and binding emotion. One that to this day he'd only reserved for Diana Reid, his mother.

The word love is used, and abused, in society to the point where the fullness of its intended meaning is all but lost when spoken or received. Many words exist that correlate to this simple four letter word, an attempt by the world to keep it sacred when it does cross lips. It exposes your most vulnerable, human side to another, and with that you are laid open before them. It is so simple, so short, so easily understood – but the power it possesses is different for each person. Its strength over you is what you give it, the extent to which you allow yourself to be captured in its thrall. In the end it is still but a word.

Sex doesn't make it real, and simply saying it doesn't make it real. Meaning it does.

For Reid, that word held a complete power over him, because he did cherish it. He'd only used it once before. Now he was gripped with fear, because he knew that what he felt for Aaron Hotchner _could _be summed up with the all multiple correlations, but only one that fit perfectly in every relation. _Love_. He loved Aaron Hotchner.

He hadn't realized he'd stopped breathing, for a while now, and the world went black as Reid passed out.

That was the last thing he remembered.

His next awareness was being laid down in a soft bed, covers pulled up to his chin. A large, warm hand was brushing the hair from his face. Humming into the touch, Reid smiled and sighed. Maybe that soft touch, meant that Hotch forgave him. Maybe it was okay, and he didn't want to open his eyes from warmth in the darkness. "Just a little longer, Aaron."

o-O-o

Aaron was seated at his desk, several files pulled out though his progress on them was limited. He would be farther, he reminded himself yet again, if he'd stop staring at his cell. Renewing his efforts yet again, he tried to make some headway into the stack of paperwork. It was late, near eleven o'clock, and he wondered how much longer he should try to work before calling it a night.

He had been waiting for the phone to ring for hours now, but he actually jumped when it did. He picked up the cell, but he paused when the name that appeared was not the one he was expecting. By the third ring he hit the accept button, bring it to his ear, "Hotchner."

"Hey, Hotch. Hope I didn't wake you," Rossi's voice greeted him from the other end.

"No, you didn't. What's up?" Hotch said as he returned focus to his work.

"Remember our talk about 'clearing the air'? There's something I have to know. Tell me, how long have you been _into _skinny young doctors?"

TBC~

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hmmm~ this chapter makes me want hot chocolate. I have no idea why. Yeah, that's about how far my brain is gone at the moment.


	10. Chapter 10

Summary: Rossi is Rossi, Reid is Reid, Hotch is Hotch.

Warnings: Slash and adult themes.

Copyrights: Criminal Minds belongs to CBS, not me. I can wish though.

Special Thanks: Beta made possible by Starofoberon; love you darling! Also, handing out love to everyone who took time to comment and review; feedback is awesome. : )

**Reaction**

Rossi was a problem, and Hotch didn't know if it was one he could handle.

The late night call hadn't come from Reid, but instead from Rossi. The question was one he thought he'd dodged a long time ago. The wording was slightly different then what he had pictured, but similar enough. How long had he been _into _Reid?

Hotch had thought this bridge with Rossi had been crossed, but he was wrong. They'd both been too wrapped up in keeping their own secrets, and they hadn't noticed the obvious.

"What did you mean then with all that talk about my hands being 'tied'?" Hotch was shouting in the phone, but he'd made sure to close the door to his den so as to not wake his son. He'd waited up for Reid to call, though he hadn't expected Rossi to call him up with such a provocative question. One that technically wasn't fully accurate as _he _hadn't been _into _Spencer. Yet.

"I was trying to tell you, as the Unit Chief to our team, that I was going to break the rules. To keep you apprised of my actions. To _tell _you, _without _telling you? You couldn't agree to it even if you wanted to. I figured you suspected that I was interested in Spencer. Aaron, _seriously_, how did you miss that?"

Hotch stopped short his tirade for a moment. Rubbing a hand over his mouth, he couldn't help but wonder how he _did _miss that. He knew David and Spencer were close, but not in the same way that Reid was with Morgan. It was different than that. He just never thought… "Seriously, no more round-about linguistic crap. You are telling me that you're interested in Spencer Reid, the genius, aka doctor, of our team. Romantically interested?"

"I thought I already told you this," Rossi sighed agitatedly, on the other end of the phone.

"So, you left my office, _actually _thinking I was okay with that?" Hotch turned his neck enough to crack some of the tension building across his shoulders. If only Rossi knew how lucky he was to be on the other coast.

"It doesn't really matter _what _you're okay with," Rossi blankly stated, "Hotch, I'm not looking for permission. I was trying to tell you because you're a friend, so you wouldn't find out after the fact."

"There's one rather prominent problem with all of this," Hotch bit out, shaking his head as he rubbed his temple.

"Yeah, no kidding," Rossi started to laugh on the other end as Hotch glared silently at nothing. David, thankfully, stopped, instead cleared his throat. "We should have this conversation when we're back in Virginia. All three of us."

"Look," Hotch sighed, ceasing the restless pacing he'd been practicing since he picked up the phone. He moved back to his desk, dropping exhausted into the chair. "We really can't. I promised Reid I would keep this between us. By us, I mean me and him."

"Yeah, that's really not going to work," Rossi's voice held an all too familiar edge, and Hotch sat up instantly at the sound of it.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing," Came the all too quick refusal. "Okay, well, I did kiss him, but that doesn't really count since he passed out anyways."

"W-what?"

"Yeah, it's a long story. Sushi, psychopathic knife wielding cooks, well intentioned waitress, sake, bullfrogs… I'll tell you about it when we get back."

The phone cut out, and Hotch couldn't stop staring at the 'Call Ended' message his cell flashed him. All Aaron could keep thinking was that Rossi really didn't know how lucky he was to be on the other side of the country right now. He _really _had no clue.

If nothing else, the phone call had managed to clear any remaining confusion the two had held on the subject of their resident genius Doctor Spencer Reid. Hotch was involved with Spencer, and Rossi wanted to be.

Aaron hadn't been there for what happened when Reid awoke the following morning. Hotch also wasn't able to get a hold of Spencer through his cell. When their flight had landed, and still he couldn't get hold of Reid, he was worried. This time after he hung up, his phone chirped back. It was Reid's cell, but the voice belonged to Rossi. When Rossi told him that Hotch needed to talk to Reid, he was trying not to be angry with his old friend.

"That's exactly what I've been trying to do."

"Hey, take it easy. Breathe."

Was Rossi really trying to coax him down? Hotch did stop, and took a deep breath. It helped, a very little bit. If David could tell how strung out he was over the phone, then he really was losing his grip.

"All right, what happened?" Hotch tried to clear his mind and think this new development of an unreachable Reid through.

"What happened when?" Hotch could feel his teeth grinding at Rossi's dodgy reply.

"Everything after I hung up with you last night."

o-O-o

David Rossi had never made moves on someone who was drunk.

Admittedly he did have sex with people who were drunk, though those were ones who'd already started the act of trying to seduce him before they downed the alcohol. People trying to seduce David weren't an oddity. Hey, an FBI agent, distinguished writer, credited with bringing down some of the worst criminals, and working with the first group to ever set up the Behavioral Analysis Unit in the FBI? It turned a lot of people on.

Yes, he really _did _have groupies.

Reid wasn't trying to seduce him, he knew that. However, for _not _trying to seduce him he was doing an awfully good job. Kid could sell seminars on the damn thing. Except for the part where after being kissed you go rigid as a stone and promptly pass out.

When he laid the younger man into his bed, brushing the hair from his face, he heard Reid distinctly say Hotch's name. Correction, purr like a kitten, smile, and then say Hotch's name. You didn't need to be a profiler to get where Rossi's mind went next, or who he called.

The next morning, Rossi awoke early, showered, and came out to find a very scared looking genius sitting up in his bed. His eyes went doggedly to Rossi, an unspoken question in them.

Reid was exhausted, his body sore and stiff. When he awoke the to the disposition of his limbs, the first thing he did was check the sheets. They were clean, which was a good sign.

Nothing happened.

His eyes darted over to Rossi's own bed, tumbled sheets and blanket twisted and pulled down. He resisted the urge to gulp. Okay, so nothing happened in _his _bed. He wasn't about to check Rossi's; he couldn't bring himself to do it.

When the older man came out of the shower, dressed in his standard button-up plaid shirt and blue jeans, Reid tried not to shrink away like a scared kitten. Rossi shrugged at the silent greeting, hanging up the hotel towel before he started gathering up his belongings and placing them back into his luggage bag.

"No, Reid," Rossi said over his shoulder, as he found his toothpaste and made a second trip toward the bathroom. "Give me _some _credit."

Reid could feel the heat rise to his face as he cast his eyes down to his fists. His knuckles were white as the sheets knotted in his grasp. Rossi didn't have to ask what he was thinking. Sadly, Reid shook his head in dismay. They never had to actually ask what the other was thinking.

"You should get ready," Rossi mumbled from within the bathroom, a toothbrush working around in his mouth. "The plane leaves at ten, and we need to check into the airport by eight to get though security."

Rubbing a hand over his face, Reid tried to collect himself into a semblance of normalcy. Pushing the covers down, he got off the bed and drug out his own luggage pack. Flipping through the zippers he found a fresh change of clothes and his toothbrush.

"You plan on pretending nothing happened?" He surprised himself with how easily he asked the older man the question which was plaguing his mind.

"On the contrary," The smile in his voice was unmistakable as Rossi picked up the keys from the night stand. "I'm going to pick up some coffee and a better breakfast then the continental crap they have downstairs. Any requests?"

"N~no," Reid looked bewilderedly back from his luggage to the other man, "Just the usual." Rossi smiled as he shook his head at Reid's quizzical expression.

"After we eat," David said, as he left on his customary errand for real food.

Reid picked up his things and went to the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he wondered if he should be grateful for how eased Rossi seemed, or worried. He hadn't been completely hammered last night. He remembered what happened. Though he rarely took alcohol on toe to toe, he'd never had a drunken blackout of events.

He knew he'd been pinned between a wall and Rossi. He knew the other man had kissed him. Hanging his head down under the near scalding water that poured down, he also knew something else he wished he could forget. He didn't want the revelations of that night. Not of Rossi's interest, nor of his feelings for Hotch.

Scrubbing down, albeit with more aggression then was required, a pink Spencer Reid stepped out of the shower and toweled off. He may have awakened confused, but now he was simply pissed.

On his return with blueberry muffins and coffee, Rossi was greeted with the sight of Spencer pacing about the room. One arm was crossed about his chest, bracing the other which held a hand raised by his head. Reid's fingers were ticking on his chin, counting off, shaking loose, then repeating the unconscious actions. The movements of his fingers an outward manifestation of Spencer's inward thought processes. Setting down the retrieved food and drink, Rossi stood, crossing his arms while he waited. He knew it would come to this. He also knew he had to wait for Reid to finish compiling before he could expect a rational conversation.

Reid finally stopped, giving Rossi a look that could cut glass. "I'm not one of your fan girls."

"Never said that you were," Rossi shrugged, handing over a cup of coffee and muffin to the decidedly agitated man.

"Your actions speak differently," Reid grumbled, though accepting the meal.

"Actually, they do," Rossi gestured to the corner table in the room, the hotel's attempt at a breakfast nook. David waited for Reid to take a seat before he continued. "Speak differently, that is."

Reid blinked at him, frowning as he started to pick the top of his muffin. "You say it like it's a good thing."

"I'd like to think so," Rossi said as he sipped on his coffee.

"I don't see you in that way," Reid said, his eyes fidgeting about the room. Anywhere that wasn't on the man across from him.

"Never assumed you did," Rossi nodded at the man, "but I think you will." Reid froze up, his eyes going wide as he did look at David this time. Rossi gave a small shrug, hiding a grin behind his cup, "I'm a very persuasive kind of guy."

"Not, really, not going to happen," Reid coughed into his hand. He'd almost agreed with Rossi out of habit. He knew Rossi was a persuasive man, but Spencer had never been on the receiving end. Sighing, he set down his muffin, giving Rossi his full attention. Reid knew Rossi pretty well, and unless he flatly refused him there was no way Rossi would give up. "We can't. We're fellow SSAs on the same team, and I'm also~" Reid gritted his teeth, but bit the figurative bullet, "I'm seeing someone."

"Both those points are valid," Rossi granted, giving Reid as much attention as he was receiving which only caused the younger man to fidget under the intense stare until he looked away.

Spencer was silently cursing his luck to be surrounded by some of the most dominant males in the FBI.

"They're both also irrelevant." Rossi's easy dismissal though sent Spencer for a loop. Of course he himself had dismissed Aaron's initial reasons easily, but he'd never said they were _irrelevant_. He also hadn't vicariously called Hotch irrelevant either, not as Rossi had just done in so few words. That brought some ire back into the young profiler as he returned to the once forgotten staring contest.

"I don't agree."

"I'm not saying that I want you to cheat on Hotch." Rossi waved his hand in the air between them. Reid swallowed his tongue, and whatever retort it had held. "For one thing," Rossi said as he held up a finger, "You're using a defense that subjugates itself. You're seeing Aaron, your, _our_, boss on the team. Kind of takes the strength out of both of those particular arguments."

"You knew?" Reid questioned Rossi when he had somehow managed to find his tongue. Rossi was silent, smiling, but he was toying with an idea in his head. Finally, shrugging his shoulders in defeat, he continued.

It would be best to explain in full what had happened.

"When I first went to Hotch on Friday, I told him I was going to pursue you. Romantically."

"Hotch knows?" Reid's voice pitched up several octaves. His jaw dropped open as he looked at Rossi.

"He knows I'm interested in you, and that I can't be dissuaded. But, Reid~"

"You told Hotch that?" Reid demanded as he stood, slamming palms onto the table between them and bringing his face close enough to scrutinize Rossi. Rossi blinked, taken aback by the closest thing he'd ever seen to rage taking over the younger man.

"Well, yes, in his office Friday morning, but~" Rossi actually flinched when Spencer's hand grabbed his mouth, muffling the explanation.

"Don't," Reid breathed. Releasing his grasp on Rossi's mouth, he left the table, and his coffee, to finish packing.

"Spencer," Rossi tried again, but Reid shot him a death glare that would have had Strauss running for cover.

The remainder of the morning, from the hotel, to the car, to the airport, and even on the plane was filled with redundant single word conversations.

"Reid" – was usually the one word Rossi would try to open with.

"No" – was the favored reply the younger man would snap back. On more then one occasion Reid's fingers would twitch toward his belt, where his gun was thankfully not holstered.

Small favors.

As they neared Quantico, Reid's phone went off. The brown haired man grimaced as he looked at the screen. Agitatedly he shut the device off, letting it fall into his lap.

When they reached the garage of the BAU Rossi parked the Bureau's SUV, but hit the locks for the doors. "Reid, you really need to talk to me. You can't dodge this."

"I have nothing to talk with you about," Reid growled, leaning over the seat to grab his carry-on. "Open the door."

"No," Rossi deadpanned, turning as best he could to look fully at the angry man in the passenger seat. "Reid, I don't want to offend you, or drive you away as a colleague. I respect you," Rossi sighed as he could see the distant look in Reid's eyes. Bringing his hand up to the side of Reid's face returned the genius to the moment at hand. "I legitimately like you, as a person, as a friend, an equal, and something more than all of that. I need you to understand that."

Reid looked petrified, but at least his eyes were focused on David now instead of staring off into space. Reid had moved to back away, but there wasn't anywhere to go in the confines of the SUV unless he intended to jump to the back seat. Spencer toyed with the idea briefly, but squashed it. Swallowing harshly, he gave a small nod. "Rossi, I'm not mad at you, but, I really need…"

"Time?" Rossi asked, pulling his hand away from Reid.

"I'm not changing my position," Reid said flatly, his eyes dark as he shook his head. "I just need a little time to clear my head. Oh, but, that," Reid pointed between them, a frown pulling his brow down, "Don't ever do that again, or I'll be more than just mad at you."

"I'll ask for permission next time." Rossi humored him as he released the lock for the doors. Reid didn't bolt from the vehicle, but it was close enough to worry Rossi. Stepping out of the driver's seat and opening the back to get their luggage, Rossi kept his eyes on Reid's shaking hands, the abnormal pale hue of his skin.

"You don't look well," Rossi dared, pulling out his suitcase. Reid paused, his breathing was hitched as he cleared his throat.

"I'm fine."

"You're not," Rossi hung his head, drawing in a deep breath. "Reid, I never wanted to upset you."

"It's not you," Reid mumbled, pulling up the handle on his rolling luggage. Shaking his head, he stopped to look at the man beside him. He was still shaking, he still looked pale, but his eyes were focused and clear. "Rossi, I do care for you, and I know you. You always go after whatever you want. Don't worry, I meant it when I said I'm not mad at you."

"I hear a distinct 'but' in there," Rossi said as he waited for what was troubling Reid to come out.

"Hotch," Reid's brown eyes blinked up at the older man, as though the answer was obvious. "I need to clear my head, but I'm fine." Spencer said as he walked away from the SUV towards his own car. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Rossi closed the back hatch of the SUV, frowning as he watched the younger man walk away. Going back to the driver's side, he opened the door to retrieve his sunglasses from the dashboard. A blue blinking light drew his attention to the seat Reid had occupied. Reaching down, Rossi pulled the cell phone from the seat. A message for "missed call" flashed on the screen.

Rossi looked back into the garage, but Reid's car was already pulling away. He'd opened his mouth, but dismissed the urge to call after the other man. He couldn't hear him regardless, and he wasn't going to case the Volvo from the garage. Cocking his head, Rossi opened the phone, closing his eyes as he saw the name on the caller ID. Sighing, he pressed the redial, pulling the phone up to his ear.

"Reid?" Hotch's voice rang through after the first ring, a distinct worry in his tone, and Rossi's heart fell.

It had been a long time since he'd heard that emotion used in Aaron's voice. He didn't want to think of himself as a bastard, but even still he gritted his teeth. He couldn't hold back his feelings any more than Hotch could keep his voice the calm stoic sound they had all come to know.

"No, guess again."

"Rossi." David grimaced. Aaron's pissed off inflection wasn't missed, but that was one he'd been on the receiving end of recently.

"You need to talk to your boy," Rossi said as he looked back to where the Volvo had left.

"He's not a boy," Aaron bit back the ire that was prominent in his voice. "Besides, I know that. That's exactly what I've been trying to do."

"Hey, take it easy. Breathe." Rossi could hear the silence, and then the deep breath pulling on the other side of the line. Aaron really has it bad, Rossi silently noted.

"All right, what happened?" Hotch said, though only a little less frantic than before.

"What happened when?" Rossi asked, slightly confused.

"Everything after I hung up with you last night."

Rossi recounted everything to Hotch, not leaving one detail out as he drove from Quantico. As he spoke on the phone, he headed toward Hotch's home, not his own. "But there's one problem."

"Just one?" Came Hotch's sarcastic remark on the other end.

"Yeah," Rossi quirked his brow, as he turned the car, drawing nearer toward Hotch's house. "Reid's pissed. He said he wasn't mad at me, but this is currently a matter of basic math. Sorry old boy," Rossi said as he pulled into Aaron's driveway.

Hotch was standing on his stoop, waiting for Rossi's arrival. Hanging up the phone, David got out of his car, regarding Hotch carefully.

"There's only three people in this equation, and if he's not mad at me, he's mad at you. I really don't know why," Rossi said as he handed Aaron Spencer's cell. Hotch looked at the cell, and David could see the desire in the dark haired man's stance, in his crossed arms and clenched fists. David had no intention of exchanging punches, but if Hotch decided to hit him, David would allow it. Lifting his chin, he waited for Hotch to decide.

Hotch silently, slowly took the offered cell phone from Rossi, his brow never lifting from the anger that pressed a weight down on it. "Could it be," Hotch started, glancing down at the cell in his hands before returning his glare to Rossi, "That you never explained to Reid the part where we didn't know what either of us were talking about in that conversation Friday morning?"

Rossi blinked, surprised that he truly had forgotten that part. He'd tried to tell Spencer that, but he wasn't listening that morning, and when he had him locked in the car he'd only been thinking of easing the distress in the younger man.

"Since, to Reid, it sounded like I just let him go to that motel room with you. Knowing that you intended to make a pass at him. That I said nothing, _did _nothing, about it." Hotch softly commented, but the glare, and the anger didn't dissipate. The more angry Hotch became, the more certain Rossi was that the white knuckled fist was going to find a home on his face. By this point, he conceded that he deserved it.

No wonder Reid looked like he was going to be sick, and here Rossi had assumed it was because of him.

"I'm ready!" Jack called as he bounced out of the house, his backpack bobbing on his back as he came to stand beside his dad. "Hey uncle Rossi!" Jack beamed, before running over to give David's legs a quick hug.

That was the first time Rossi saw any of the agitation leave Hotch's frame, or saw the man breathe, since he pulled in. Hotch leaned down, zipping up the small red and blue windbreaker before checking his son once over.

"I'm going to visit my cousins tonight," Jack looked up to Rossi, explaining away his attire.

"Just for tonight," Hotch said, brushing his son's golden bangs from his eyes. Going to his car, he lifted Jack into his car seat and buckled him in. Waiting until he had the door closed before he turned back to David, "I can't exactly take him along for a lover's quarrel, now can I?"

"Uncle Rossi," Jack called out as he rolled down the window of the car, "You're coming with us, right?" Hotch shot David a warning glare, but Rossi ignored it as he smiled over Aaron's shoulder at the boy.

"You bet I am," David grinned back toward the cheering boy, before giving Hotch a small shrug. "I said all three of us needed to sit down and talk when we got back. Sooner's better then later."

Hotch's eyes fluttered closed as he tried to unclench his fists. David walked around him, moving to the passenger side of the car. Jack's voice happily called from the vehicle, followed by an equally jubilant Rossi urging him to, "Come on! Let's go!"

o-O-o

Restraining or harnessing his anger, Hotch went to the car, giving Rossi a look that could kill before opening the door and turning the keys in the ignition.

When they arrived at Michael and Jessica's home, Aaron walked Jack up to the door that opened just as their feet landed on the porch. Jessica beamed full of light as she stooped down and pulled Jack into a big embrace. Lifting up her nephew, she kissed his cheek before looking back to Aaron.

He had called her from the car, with a quick explanation and request for Jack to stay the night. She seemed to understand what was happening despite the brief bits of information he choose to use in Jack's presence.

"Thank you Jess, I know this was last minute. I'm sorry~" Aaron started, but stopped when Michael came from behind the woman. He offered to take Jack from her, and the boy slid between the two. Aaron saw the bandages on his hands, caught the fear in Jessica's eyes when he noticed the white of the fabric. Michael brought Jack into the house, his voice jubilant as he announced Jack's presence to the sound of his sons' resounding cheers.

"You!" Jess snapped, stepping out onto the porch, shoving a finger into Aaron's troubled face. "Don't you dare!" She said quietly, to the dark eyes that searched her face, "Later, but for right now you need to focus. We'll take good care of Jack, but you need to concentrate on Spencer." Aaron's face clouded, his feet rooted as he looked down at the woman before him. Jess sighed, using a heartfelt smile she'd learned, practiced, but this time she actually meant. Reaching arms up around Aaron she pulled his shocked frame into a strong embrace.

"Spencer means a lot to me," she whispered into Aaron's shoulder. Smiling warmly she pulled away. "I want him back!" Slapping a hand on Hotch's shoulder, she pushed him down the first step of the porch. Grinning, Jess gave her brother-in-law a small wave before skipping lightly into the home and closing the door.

Aaron stood there for a moment, torn, unable to reconcile what he had just seen.

"Hey, Hotch," Rossi called from the car.

Peeling his eyes off the door that Jess had disappeared through, he turned around to see Rossi waving his phone in his direction, "I can't get Spencer to pick up at his house. What if he's not there?"

"Then we find him." Hotch returned quietly, as he shrugged off the eerie feeling eating at the back of his mind. Returning to the car, he once more turned the keys. Shaking his head, he couldn't help but feel as if the things around him were all deciding that today was a good day to fall apart.

TBC~

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Next chapter will be up shortly. : )


	11. Chapter 11

Summary: Fist meets face, Reid gets hurt, Rossi… is something else.

Warnings: Slash and adult themes.

Copyrights: Criminal Minds belongs to CBS, not me. I can wish though

Special Thanks: To Starofoberon, wishing you the best, and sincerely thank you. Also a thanks to reviewers. Small note at the end for everyone who posted in regards to the Rossi element.

**Lost**

Gingerly rubbing the mark on his jaw, Aaron sat on Morgan's stoop, not the least bit confused. He knew what had happened. He knew why he was here. He also knew he wasn't leaving. Glancing across Morgan's front door, Hotch considered this not a call to war but something worse.

Hotch liked to act, to meet problems head on. Stagnation was his bane. As the stars light the night sky, he was disturbed by the fact that there was nothing he could do. Nothing, but sit and wait.

It was the purest form of torture.

They had made it to Reid's apartment, and received no answer at the door, nor when they rang his landline. The lot also had no signs of his Volvo. Spencer hadn't gone home. Hotch had picked up his phone to call in a trace from Garcia. Though it was the weekend and he did not want the tech involved, he couldn't leave this until tomorrow. Hotch stopped, looking at the device he had fished from his pocket. The phone in his hands was Spencer's, his own still lay in his pocket.

They couldn't track his phone. Spencer didn't have it, they did!

He wasn't home, and the sun was in the last shades of setting. Glancing at the watch on his wrist, Aaron frowned at the big hand on the nine and the little hand moving to the six. It was officially late, and they held no clue for where the deservingly angry genius had spirited off to.

Hotch and Rossi resorted to the only trick they had up their sleeves. Profiling.

They'd done this before. Playing out a scenario where one or the other was an unsub, or a victim, when trying to determine where someone would go. What they would do. However, the second they started Hotch instantly regretted the decision.

"I'm Spencer Reid," Rossi stated flatly as they stood in the parking lot of Reid's apartment complex. Inwardly, and outwardly, Hotch groaned as he rolled his eyes at the man standing next to him.

"You're not that good looking," Aaron grumbled, hanging his head in resignation.

"Did you want to find him or not?" Rossi persisted, his own aggravation coming through.

"Fine," Aaron crossed his arms, cocking his head at the older profiler. "You're Reid." _And I'm Mother fucking Teresa_, Hotch silently added.

"Yes, I'm Reid," Rossi continued, as he started to pace, entering character in front of Hotch. "A recently assumed gay, or maybe bi-curious, genius. Currently, I'm pissed as hell at you..."

"And who's fault is that?" Aaron snapped at Rossi, but froze when he spotted an older man in an orange and pink jogging suit down the sidewalk who halted his steps. The gray haired gentleman gave both the profilers an odd look. Reaching down, he picked up his Pomeranian, and turned back the way he came.

"Fine," Hotch ground out, though this time more quietly as he resigned himself to Rossi's assumed role, "You're Reid, and you're mad at me."

"Because I trusted you," Rossi continued, rubbing his goatee as he paced. "I don't generally trust other people. I'm closed off. I let myself open up to you, get involved … Physically?" Rossi stopped, giving Aaron a quizzically raised brow.

"_That _is not your business." Aaron said, but had to physically bite his lip to keep his anger in check. _This is part of profiling_, Hotch reminded himself as Rossi patently awaited an answer. "Fine. Yes, physically," Hotch admitted through clenched teeth.

"All right," Rossi again turned back to pacing, under his breath he mumbled, "No _wonder _he was so pissed off."

"Dave," Aaron said, a warning on the edge of his tongue. Rossi raised up his hands, shrugging his shoulders, but he didn't bother to look back at Aaron.

"So, in that case, I'm feeling used. Really, _really_, used. I mean," Rossi stopped the pacing, holding his palm out between them.

"We're talking about Reid here," Rossi continued as he began breaking the fellow profiler down piece by piece. "He could almost be diagnosed with anti-social tendencies. He hasn't had many, if any, involvements in a love life. He comes from a broken home, and was isolated from his own age group and any possibility of developing normal friendships. He has more of an intellectual grasp of love and healthy relationships.

"Given his IQ, he grasped this concept early. However, based on his experiences growing up, he doesn't believe in them. He probably was waiting for the other shoe to drop. When it did, it was of you handing him over to a, uh," Rossi paused, coughing into his hand, "A _very _debonair wolf. Wait a minute," Rossi scratched at the gruffness on his chin, "If I'm Reid, why would I turn _me _down?"

"He's more well adjusted then that," Aaron finally snapped, sighing at Rossi's loss of focus. He wasn't going to bother challenging Rossi's claim to _debonair_, though _wolf _was far more accurate. Hotch also wasn't going to touch David's last comment, not with a ten foot pole. "He wasn't waiting for another shoe to drop, or he would never have gotten involved with me. He's too careful for that." Rossi contemplated Hotch's statement, giving a slow nod.

"You're right," Rossi's eyes were dark as he looked at Aaron, "He trusts you. He doesn't trust many people, but he trusts you implicitly. He wasn't waiting for you to let him down, he never thought it would happen. However, now, he's devastated because he thinks it has. When he feels that trust is broken~" Aaron had been grimacing the whole dialog, Rossi's words were like salt in a wound, but a realization struck with the last point.

"He'll need to reconnect to that feeling. He'll go to someone he can still trust," Hotch blinked, wanting to slap himself in the forehead at the obvious answer. Since Reid's mother was currently in Las Vegas, Rossi was clearly not on the list of people Reid was with, and Gideon had long since been MIA in the younger man's life, that only left one person.

"Morgan," They said in unison as they quickly walked back to the car.

It should have brought relief to see Reid's car parked in the lot outside Morgan's town home. On one level it did. At least Hotch knew where he was – although where he was gave the man no sense of comfort.

When they parked, the sun had since long set, the moon rising in its wake. They stood at the door to Derek's home, exchanging a glace as Rossi motioned for Hotch to do the honors. Hotch knocked firmly at the door, calling Derek's name once. He waited, looking back out at the driveway to confirm that Derek's car was also there. It was, so he should be home.

Hotch picked up his cell, about to attempt calling Morgan, but the sounds of a chain sliding off the door stopped his fingers from dialing.

Morgan opened up the door, looking at Hotch, then at Rossi, then back to Hotch once more. Stepping out of the house, he closed the door behind him. Morgan was dressed for bed in gray sweats and a white tee shirt. The dark skinned SSA gave Hotchner a curious look as he put his hands into the pockets of the gray sweats.

"Hotch, Rossi," Derek greeted the two men calmly, his almond colored eyes looking questioningly at Aaron. "It's late, man. Is this work related?"

"No," Hotch said, "I need to speak with Reid, and he's here." It wasn't a question, but still Morgan gave a slow nod, closing his eyes in thought.

"You know, if you're not here about work, then," Morgan breathed out, cocking his head as he gave Hotch a trademark Derek Morgan coy glance, "we're not on Bureau time."

Whatever Aaron's sentiments had been, they never left his mouth. He hadn't been expecting Morgan's hand to come out of that pocket in a fist and roundhouse his jaw. Falling back onto the pavement, Hotch managed to catch his fall before the cement ccould add an additional insult to his cranium, but his hands and left knee were going to suffer from the save.

His sight was fuzzy for a moment, and he couldn't think. He heard more then saw Rossi move between them, heard Morgan shouting at Rossi, "Step back man, there's a line and you're next!" Looking back at the two, Aaron stood, ready to order this debacle to stop when a high-pitched cry of pain caused everyone to halt.

Morgan had been struggling with Rossi, who was trying to keep the enraged man from kicking the crap out of their Unit Chief, when another body entered the fray.

Reid had come behind Morgan, grasping about his friend's shoulders to keep him also employed come morning. Derek didn't hear Reid asking him to stop, and he didn't register that it was Reid's hands pulling him back. Morgan shoved back in the struggle with Rossi, and Reid ended up as the cushion between Derek and the frame of his door. The metal of the latch cut into Reid's back, pushing a pained cry from the younger man's lips.

They all stopped, disentangling as Reid fell to the ground, his hand arching behind to grasp his spine.

"Reid, I'm sorry~" Either Rossi or Derek, probably both, had started to apologize when Reid winced, hissing as he pulled the palm back around from pressing against the pain in his back to his face. Sighing, Spencer knew there was a reason his hand felt hot and slick.

There's wasn't much blood, but going by the looks of the three men around the fallen genius you'd think he'd just taken a bullet.

"I'm fine–" he'd started to say, putting his hands up plaintively between himself and the group. When the color in their faces dropped a couple of shades at the wet, red smear across his palm he quickly hid it behind his back.

"Reid," Hotch was beside him, and to how, or when, he got there Reid couldn't say. "Let me see it." Hotch's hand was on his arm, the other pressing on Reid's back to get a better view of the wound. Reid's cheeks went an instant shade of red, easily making up for the lost color of the other men's faces. His mouth hung open, but nothing was coming out. He didn't expect to see Hotch tonight, let alone to have him this close.

"It's not bad," Aaron sighed out, and to Spencer's relief the trio of alpha males around him eased up some at the pronouncement.

"I said that," Reid mumbled, keeping his eyes off the ones Aaron was using to bore into him.

"Okay, that's enough," Morgan was at Reid's side in an instant, slapping away Aaron's hand and taking Reid's arm. Lifting his friend up, he matched Hotch's pissed glare for one of his own. "Let's go, Reid."

"Reid," Hotch said, standing up as Spencer was pulled to his feet by Derek, "I need to talk with you."

"Not tonight you don't," Morgan spat, practically pushing Reid through his door. Spencer's mouth still hung unhinged, his eyes focused on Hotch's jaw, but for once words weren't coming out. Morgan entered his home behind Spencer, spinning around as he bid the older profilers a snapped, "Good night," before slamming the door closed in their faces.

Hotch and Rossi stared at the closed door, then to each other. The trance was only broken when the porch light over their heads was turned off.

Hotch didn't say anything, but Rossi gave a casual nod of his head. Sighing, they both settled down, one on either side of the door frame. Both men were determined to not look at the other as they equally chose to ignore Morgan's dismissal.

They would wait.

It would be hours yet until the sun rose, and the two inside would leave for work. Aaron rubbed his hand over the mark on his jaw, careful to not look at his watch. He was committed to waiting the whole night, so there was no need to watch the time.

It's not like he'd be getting any sleep even if he went home.

More importantly than that, he couldn't stomach the idea of showing up to work tomorrow without explaining to Reid what their whole proverbial game of "telephone" had actually been about. He hadn't used Reid and then handed him off to Rossi. Firstly, he'd never do that. Secondly, he had no intentions of handing Spencer off to anyone, and definitely not to the man sitting the door's length away.

Glancing over at Rossi, Aaron bit once more at the inside of his lip. The skin was breaking under the constant attention of his teeth, but he didn't care. Rossi was a problem, and one that Hotch truly couldn't fix. He had known that before, when Rossi said that he wasn't going to stop trying for Spencer, but he didn't know it would come to this.

In the end the only thing Aaron Hotchner could do was sit and wait.

They stayed that way, silent, for a long time. Rossi muffled a yawn behind his hand at one point, standing up and walking to Hotch with an outstretched hand.

"Keys," He said, rubbing at his face. Hotch felt a small weight leave his shoulders when it looked like Rossi was calling it quits. Handing the keys over to David, the older man gave Hotch a devious smile.

"Not on your life, my friend," He said as he started to head to the car, "I'm just going to hit up that seven-eleven we passed and grab a coffee and bathroom break. Can I get you anything?" He asked as he opened the door. The weight that had left Aaron's shoulders easily returned as he shook his head no. Aaron watched as his car pulled away, taking in a deep breath as he leaned his head back against the siding of the house.

As he waited, and dreaded Rossi's return, Hotch tried to adjust his weight some.

"I'm getting too old for this," Hotch whispered, feeling the pain of sitting on the concrete step acutely in his hips now.

"You are," came an affirming whispered reply that made Hotch's heart jump in his throat. Looking up, he hadn't even noticed the door had opened a crack, nor that Reid was sitting on his haunches just on the other side.

Spencer was no longer dressed in his own clothes. He now wore a large dark tee shirt and sweat pants rolled at the band that didn't succeed in keeping them from falling low on his hips. The new clothes were obviously a loan from Derek's closet.

Aaron opened his mouth, but Spencer raised a finger to pursed lips, signaling Hotch to keep quiet. Reid looked over his shoulder before slowly standing. Gingerly he pulled the chain, careful not to let it hit the door when it fell. His brown eyes remained fixated on the inside of the house, on the couch in the living room and the dark outline of blankets and pillows that rose and fell with Morgan's breathing.

Reid didn't even have the door closed before arms wrapped him from behind pulling him into a tight embrace. He didn't mean to wince, he tried to cover for it when he did, but Aaron noticed the seized frame in his arms. Hotch also froze, pulling back from Spencer slowly.

"Was that," Aaron ran a tongue over his suddenly very dry lips, "for the wound on your back, or for me?"

Reid chuckled, darkly as he looked sadly over his shoulder. "One and the same?" He asked tentatively to Aaron, who felt his heart go from his throat to his feet in so few words.

"Reid, I'm sorry," Hotch breathed out, closing his eyes and finding that part in his lip again. He knew he was drawing blood without question by this point. "I know what Rossi said. How it must have sounded, but I _swear _to you it's just a big misunderstanding. At first it was my misunderstanding of what Rossi was trying to say, about wanting to pursue you, because I thought he was trying to hint that he knew we were involved. At the time, he didn't know that we are… were~"

A fist hit Aaron in the shoulder, knocking him back a step and drawing his dark eyes up to an amused looking quirk in the genius' lips. Reid was having a quietly laugh, which only served to draw out all of Hotch's confusion and concern. Seeing the confusion and pain, Reid brought his hand to his face clearing his throat.

"Hotch, I, uh," Spencer shook his head, giving Aaron a hesitant smile, "I know. You don't have to apologize. No, actually, let me put it this way. Please _don't _apologize, and _please _don't use past tense when talking about us."

"W~wha? Wait, you're not mad?" Hotch blinked, more confused now then ever. He saw many emotions in Reid's tone, posture, and face, but anger wasn't one of them. "But, Rossi said~"

"Oh, no, don't get me wrong," Reid nodded, rolling his eyes, "I was way pissed."

"But, you're not now?"

"Not since about an hour before you showed up. Morgan talked me down," Reid smiled at Hotch giving the man a small inclination of his head. "He actually used logic. I mean, yeah, I was thinking what you said. I couldn't believe you wouldn't even tell me that he was going to attack me in the hotel, or that he told you he was going to and you were just fine with it. But, Hotch, I couldn't believe it because that doesn't even sound like you. Not one bit. Morgan simply helped to point that out, that and the fact that I, um, really stopped listening to anything Rossi was trying to say after that,"

Reid coughed lightly, again trying to clearing his throat. _Yeah_, he silently amended, _I freaked_.

"I don't understand," Hotch said, rubbing his hands over his face. "If you're not mad, and both you and Morgan know it was a misunderstanding, then why did Morgan hit me? And why am I sitting out here like an idiot, giving myself an ulcer?"

Reid sighed at the question, directing his eyes to the ground. "Ah, sorry. Morgan is, well, you know. I think I freaked him out a little when I first showed up." He squirmed, reaching out for Hotch's bruised jaw, but he stopped, pulling his hand back. Aaron saw the retreat, and caught his wrist before Spencer could complete it.

"And _why _are you doing this?" Hotch nodded at the hand that hadn't touched him.

Reid mumbled something, trying to hide his face under bangs that he'd cut far too short to allow for the old habit. Hotch questioned himself, but deciding that action was better then doing nothing, he reached up and cupped Reid's face, lifting it so he could see him clearly.

Spencer's eyes were downcast, filled with worry, guilt, and a million other things that made them unfocused as they hesitantly tried to meet Aaron's gaze. Reid offered a weak smile when his attempts failed miserably. He gave in to a short, hollow laugh at himself.

"Hotch, in case you haven't noticed, I'm a little messed up."

"You're not," Hotch returned, making Reid pause in his own condescension at how easily Aaron said the words. How he sounded as though he fully believed the statement.

"Yeah," Reid gave Aaron a sad smile, "I am. More then being mad at you, I was scared of seeing you." Aaron winced, flinching like he'd been hit yet again. "Not for the reason you think," Reid quickly added, pressing a hand to Hotch's chest, desperate to assure Aaron that the problem truly lay within himself.

Spencer's voice went into high gear as he explained, "I had this little revelation. Maybe not so much a revelation, because I suspected it, but I didn't want to say it, and I didn't want you to either because I didn't want you to feel like you were obligated to return the sentiment. I considered just going to see you directly after I got back. If I did that then, though, besides being a complete wreck and accusing you of handing me to Rossi on a silver platter, I'd have been stupid and just come right out and said 'I love you'. If I did that and if you did return it, but didn't mean it, or worse, if I scared you off~"

The game had originally been one used to shut the other up, but Aaron wasn't thinking about that when he kissed Reid. He wasn't thinking much of anything other then the part where Spencer had said he loved him, even though the younger man didn't appear to notice he done just that.

Spencer was pulled into the kiss, Aaron's arms wrapping around his back, a hand sliding up the back of his neck and holding him close into the embrace. Half- and fully-formed worries and concerns were lost, and his body relaxed for the first time since he'd awakened early that morning.

Melting into the embrace, Reid lifted his arms behind Aaron, grasping his shoulders for support as the stress leaving his body made him weak. Though Aaron's tongue caressing gently across the inside of his mouth, the familiar scent of Hotch's skin, and the warmth and tenderness of the kiss may have been to blame for the weakness of his knees, Reid blamed his apparent inability to stand on his own on the exhaustion caused by overly high-strung muscles. If asked, that's what he'd say, anyway.

Right now though, the only thought that rang clearly through his head was one that filled him with as much peace as it did fear. He loved Aaron, and there wasn't anything he could do to stop it.

Rossi couldn't stop it, though he did manage to put a halt on the lovers' reunion as he harshly cleared his throat, coughing into his hand. Hotch and Reid instinctively pulled apart at the cough, though somehow they had missed the sound of the car pulling up into the driveway.

The credit to missing that, Reid knew, would have to be owned up to Aaron's kiss.

"I'm glad to see that all has been cleared in this particular misunderstanding then?" Rossi gave the two floundering men a half smile as he approached. Both Aaron and Spencer were sputtering nonsense in return, brains far too clouded to be intelligent by this point.

The light above Morgan's door flashed back on, and all three looked up just as a very angry, half asleep Derek swung the door open wide to glare at the lot of them. Reid actually moved to stand between Hotch and Morgan, but the source of Derek's ire landed on Rossi's quizzical brow.

"You!" Derek ordered, pointing at Rossi as he took two quick steps toward the man. Grasping a dumbfounded David Rossi by the arm, Morgan dragged the confused man into his house, a near déjà vu to events not too long past. Derek slammed the door closed, leaving Hotch and Reid too look as equally confused as Rossi had been.

The door reopened a moment later, and Morgan tossing car keys at Hotch, who most impressively caught them before they hit Spencer, still standing as his human shield.

"Hotch," Derek gave his boss a steady, deadly glare as he pulled his index and middle finger to his eyes, then pointed firmly at Aaron. "Like a fucking hawk man," Morgan warned before he slammed the door once more, the sounds of Rossi's indignant protests dying away as the door closed.

"Wow." Reid blinked at the perpetually active door. "I think that's a cue we should go." Reid rocked back on his heels, backing up as Derek and Rossi's voices became louder again inside the house.

Aaron gave a small nod, glancing only back once before the two moved to his vehicle.

TBC~

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The mentioned note: Fear not, I had the story planed out beginning, middle and end when I wrote the summary. This is Hotch/Reid, though, I admit to not saying anything sooner to abate concerns in interest of suspense. I also admit to being a Rossi/Reid fan, but Hotch/Reid is number one in my heart ; )


	12. Chapter 12

Summary: The last to know is rarely who you think.

Warnings: Slash and adult themes.

Copyrights: Criminal Minds belongs to CBS, not me. I can wish though

Special Thank: Is at the bottom with a small note.

**Last to Know**

Prentiss sat at her desk, watching all of the men in their unit file into the bullpen undeniable late. She greeted them all in turn. Her eyes were guarded as she noticed the mark on Hotch's jaw as he strode past to his office. The way Derek favored his hand, the knuckles slightly swollen. The dark circled bags under Rossi's eyes as he gave a nod to the offered "Good morning." The ever persistent bags under Reid's own brown eyes as he sat down at the desk across from her, a smile he was trying to contain refusing to stop pulling at the right corner of his lips.

Wonder boy looked like he was suffering from a tic.

Rubbing fingers into her temple, she tried to sooth the muscles that she worried were forming into a tic of her own. "When I said I thought 'nothing interesting ever happens here', I wasn't requesting they not just come out and just get it over with," the black haired woman mumbled under her breath as she opened a file.

A finely placed flick of fingers on the back of her head brought the woman's eyes to glare angrily up at Jennifer. "Ixnay on the eechspay," JJ breathed out between barely parted lips, trying to look busy as she finished flipping through a file and dropped it into Prentiss' inbox on her desk.

Prentiss looked up at the blonde, her left eye irrevocably twitching by this point. "You do know I speak _actual _Latin, right?"

JJ rolled her eyes in reply as she walked back to her office. Focusing again on the developing tic, Prentiss tried once more to pretend that she was happily oblivious to her team's drama. If they'd all just come out and say it, she wouldn't have to keep pretending that she didn't notice Hotch and Reid's more then just a bro-mance, or Rossi's interest in the genius, or Morgan's pit-bull style protection of his friend from the other two alpha males in their group.

_God_, she sighed as she tried to relax with the aid of a sip from the herbal tea in her mug. The things she did for her team…

o-O-o

Rossi had sat beside Morgan the entire night. The _entire _god damn night. It wasn't like sleep would be coming any time soon, but did Morgan really feel like he had to keep his eyes on him? What was he going to do anyways? It's not like he had his car, or he intended to chase after Reid and Hotch.

What Morgan didn't seem to understand, what Hotch was aware of, was that if anything David was a very patient man.

He could wait.

"Gin," He called out, laying his hand of cards on the table, earning an tired sigh from Derek. Rossi actually felt some pity for Morgan. The younger agent hadn't won a hand yet.

When Morgan had pulled him into the house, he'd assumed it was for a fight. He expected that. He didn't expect him to snatch the keys from his hands, and lock him inside for the evening.

"How about poker?" Derek asked as he gather up the cards and shuffled them fluidly in his hands. Rossi craned his neck, glancing at the clock on Derek's DVD player before nodding. He didn't have the heart to tell Derek that he was an equally gifted poker player.

He'd had his share of strip poker games.

"You're okay with this then?" Rossi asked as Morgan began dealing. "About Hotch and Reid, I mean." Derek reached into a drawer of his coffee table, pulling out a box of chips.

"Don't really have a choice in the matter," Morgan shrugged, dividing up the different colored chips between the two.

"Guess not," Rossi conceded as he picked up the hand of cards. Tossing in a couple chips, Rossi arranged his cards. "Couldn't help but notice Reid was in your clothes earlier. Care to explain what you two were _doing _for so long?"

"I put a bandage on his back, begged for forgiveness for getting him hurt, and gave him some PJs so my boy could have something to wear to bed. I couldn't let him leave with you two sitting on my front step," Morgan growled giving Rossi an avid glare. "Don't think I'm not aware of your part in this," Derek pointed his finger at Rossi after he tossed in his own wager. "For the record; Reid is off limits."

"Off limits to everyone _but _Hotch?"

Derek's eye twitched, and Rossi dropped two cards from his hand.

"If I'd thought Hotch would ever be an issue, I'd have stopped it long before it started. Since that boat has already sailed, I'm letting you know right now. Reid is off-limits," Derek grumbled, sliding Rossi two cards from the deck. "Besides, even if it hadn't," Morgan amended, dropping three cards from his own hand, "I'd have put an end to it, except Reid asked me to lay off the man."

"Punching Hotch is laying off him?" Rossi asked as he doubled his wager in the pool.

Derek looked up at Rossi, genuinely surprised when he gave a small shrug, "He walked away, didn't he?"

They called and Rossi laid down a flush, sinking Morgan's pair of twos. Derek shook his head as he began shuffling once more while Rossi scooped up the winnings.

"Eventually it will end," Rossi commented, stacking the chips in neat piles while he waited for the new hand. "When it does, it looks like you and me will have an issue."

"If that day comes," Morgan's fingers began flipping out the cards as he looked honestly at the senior profiler, "I sincerely hope you, and Hotch, are ready. I'll have no reason to hold back."

"On that day," Rossi nodded. Taking the new hand, David began calculating the odds of winning with what he'd been dealt.

o-O-o

"Hey, that's my exit," Reid pointed out the window, looking back quizzically to Hotch. The dark haired man glanced at him, but continued driving. Spencer gave him an odd look, taking another sip from the fresh coffee that was sitting in the car's cup holder when they'd entered.

He knew this was probably what Rossi had left for, but he wasn't going to let it go to waste. Scrunching his face, he glanced down at the foam cup. Far too bitter.

"Give it here," Hotch said, raising one hand across the distance of the car. Reid looked up, confused, though Hotch kept his eyes focused on the road ahead. His hand pointed, gesturing to the cup and Reid handed the coffee over when he understood what Aaron was talking about.

Hotch took a slow sip from it, his face unflinching at the strong taste before he handed it back to Spencer. Reid took it back, though he tried to hide the trembling of his hands when they brushed against Aaron's.

That was the first thing Hotch had said since they'd left Morgan's. He may have broken the silence, but Reid couldn't help but notice Hotch hadn't looked at him once since they entered the car.

"You're mad at me," Reid observed, turning his eyes out the window.

"No," Aaron said slowly, but he didn't offer anything more then that.

"You're not talking," Reid mumbled, watching the buildings pass by. "And you really did miss my turn," He half heartedly gestured back down the highway.

"No, I'm not mad at you," Aaron said calmly, so calmly that Reid found himself more unnerved than before the denial. Aaron kept his eyes on the road, and belatedly finished his reply, "And, no, I didn't miss your turn."

"Hotch, h~how is your head?" Reid leaned in closer to his boss, trying to get a better view of the marred jaw. "Maybe I should drive? You could have a concussion."

"My head is fine. Really, I promise." Aaron gave Reid a barely there smile, yet still he never took his eyes from the asphalt.

"Yeah, but~"

"I'm not talking, because I'm thinking," Aaron interrupted Reid, taking the exit for his house, "and I'm not taking you home, because you're coming to my place."

"Ahh~ O-okay," Spencer relented, sipping again from the bitter black liquid in the cup. The silence continued until he couldn't keep the thought down. "You're not thinking you're mad at me though, right? I swear I had no idea Morgan was going to hit you."

"Reid," Aaron breathed, a hint of warning in his tone. Hotch made a turn, pulling into his neighborhood. "Really, this isn't something I want to talk about while we're sitting in a car."

_Then that is what you're thinking_, Spencer silently added, shrinking in his seat with dread.

He'd messed up. He should have talked to Hotch, or listened to Rossi's explanation, or not have dragged Morgan into the middle of this. If he'd done even one of those things, it would have been all right, but he hadn't. Sighing in resignation, Spencer wondered just how easily he could mess a good thing up, because he wasn't even trying and he was doing one hell of a good job at it.

"Reid?" Hotch's voice drew the younger man from his thoughts, and he blinked when he realized the car was in park, and in Hotch's driveway.

"Sorry," Reid mumbled an all encompassing apology, rubbing a hand over his eyes. He couldn't believe it, but he could feel a burning itch in his eyes. He actually felt like crying, and he didn't know why!

Other than the obvious of course. The fact that he hated himself, because he was the one responsible for Hotch getting hurt, and Derek getting upset, and god only knows what Morgan was doing to Rossi at the moment but that was most assuredly going to be on his conscience later as well. "Really, I am sorry. This is why you didn't want to start seeing me in the first place, right?" Reid tried to give Hotch a smile, because he swore if he didn't try, then he really was going to cry. That was the last thing Hotch needed right now; him strung out in hysterics like some kid. "So, uh," Reid tried to cleared his throat, though it was getting too tight to breath let alone speak, "I get it. I understand."

"Understand?" Aaron asked, giving Reid his complete attention which wasn't helping Spencer try to form words from his constricting throat.

"Hotch, you're a good guy," Reid said, keeping his half hearted smile, but it was only pulling up on one corner of his mouth. God, he couldn't even fake a smile right now!

Stopping to take a deep breath, Spencer went the way of the band-aid mentality. He could let it continue, slowly as it hurt and pained the longer you tugged or you could rip it off. Since he didn't know how much longer he could keep a straight face, he went with the pull.

"You want to have a conversation with me, in a place you feel is controlled. You didn't want to tell me in the car, and then drop me off because you didn't want me freaking out tomorrow. It, it's fine, really." No, it wasn't fine. It was anything but fine.

He'd had the entire drive to let his brain work around in the silence and all he was getting was that Hotch was angry, he'd messed up, and now it was affecting their work life. That would be the clincher for Hotch. That's it.

He had a shot at something, something he didn't even know how much he wanted until it looked like it wasn't his anymore. Hotch was perfect, freaking amazing, intelligent, incredibly funny in a sarcastically dry, high-wit sort of way, understanding, kind, caring, sexy~ Covering his face with his hands, Reid silently prayed Aaron would take some pity and get this over with so he could go home and have a nice and properly isolated breakdown.

"Damn it, Reid!" Aaron bit out. Spencer heard Hotch's door open, slamming closed and Reid sunk even farther into himself. The younger man tried not to jump when his own door clicked opened.

"I'm sick of this," Hotch's voice was harsh as his hand found the wrist of one of the hands Spencer was using to hide his face. The hold wasn't painful, but it was unyielding. Reid couldn't keep his face covered with the appendage as Hotch used it to pull him out of the vehicle.

Even if Hotch wasn't going to let him hide, that didn't mean he had to look at his boss. Though, apparently he had no choice but to follow him as Hotch pulled him from the driveway, up the path and, once it was unlocked, into his home.

Released his hold of the wrist when he turned closing the door, he flipped the deadbolt with practiced speed. Spencer couldn't help but wince at the sound of the lock sliding closed. Hotch didn't want him running away before, or while, getting dumped? Reid liked to believe Aaron gave him a little more credit then that.

As though he sensed Reid thinking his name, Hotch spun on Reid, his eyes dark under his pressed brow in the shadows of the home. Reid curled in on himself, clutching his shaking hands closed at his sides. Bracing for the words like a blow, Reid turned his face away as his body trembled.

"It's not fair," Hotch said flatly, guilt cutting through Reid worse then anything he'd imagined in the dread filling journey to the house.

"I'm sorry," Reid pinched his eyes closed, his heart hammering in his ears painfully. "I messed everything up, I get it! I'm sor~" When Aaron's hand came up under his chin, it wasn't the same as the careful caresses he remembered receiving. When Aaron kissed him, he was floored. Confused.

The kiss wasn't the same either. It was harsh, Aaron's teeth biting his lips to make them part, pulling a muffled yelp from the younger man. Aaron's tongue pushing forcefully into his mouth, and though it was always hard to think when Hotch kissed him, Reid's mind went blank for one of the few times in his life. He didn't understand this. He knew Hotch was bottling up, that he was angry despite the brooding man's refusals, but now?

He wasn't just bruising under the kiss. He was also being manhandled, pushed, walked back through the house. Reid's feet fumbled in the motions, but Aaron didn't halt, instead he used his arms to keep Reid from a fall. To keep moving him.

The assaulting kiss halted just before Hotch's bedroom. Spencer took a deep breath at the pause, desperate for air, but Aaron's hands slid from his back down to his waist. Hotch's fingers hooked into the hem of the tee shirt, yanking the cloth over his head.

"Hotch?" Reid blinked at the resentment in the dark eyes that looked at the discarded cloth. He opened his mouth, an instinctual fear edging into his mind, but Aaron grasped one hand behind his neck, taking advantage of the already opened lips to resume the kiss where he'd left it.

There was no room between them as Hotch pulled Reid's body into his, pressing his toned body into Reid's thin frame. There were more steps, something hitting the back of his legs, and Reid fell back onto Hotch's bed. Hotch followed, pinning one of Reid's arms over the younger man's head. His other hand slid down Reid's side, causing the genius to shiver as it grasped firmly about his hip. A thumb slid down between skin and the band of the sweat pants, hooking the fabric where Reid had rolled them. Somehow Hotch managed to disrobe him of all but his boxers with ease that should not have been possible.

"I don't want to do this anymore," Hotch breathed, his deep voice raising the hairs on Reid's neck as he desperately tried to understand the man who held him pinned down. Spencer had expected those words, he'd pictured them a million different ways as he'd listened to the void in drive here, but he'd never pictured them being delivered while he lay almost naked on his back.

"Misunderstandings happen, but this?" Aaron continued, the hand that had removed the sweats slid back up Spencer's body, pressing into the trembling muscles and sliding up his ribs, finding his throat until it pressed under his jaw. Hotch ran his thumb over his chin, sliding up as it drew across Reid's lips, brushing away at the saliva he'd left on the young man's reddening lips. Hotch frowned, dropping his head, pinching troubled eyes closed.

"Hotch?" Reid breathed, concern taking forefront over the fear and confusion that had dominated him. Hotch was shaking as well, and he looked in pain. Hesitantly Reid brought his free hand to Aaron's side, trying to steady the shaking in the larger frame that loomed over him.

"It's not fair," Hotch's deep voice whispered. Slowly he turned his troubled gaze to met Spencer's. "You can't say that you love me and in the same breath tell me I can't say it too. I'd do anything for you, Spencer." Reid startled, blinking at the use of his first name which he'd only heard cross Aaron's lips but once before.

Hotch dropped his head into Spencer's shoulder, releasing the slim wrist he'd held pinned over the younger man's head. Instead, Aaron braced his weight on his arm to keep himself propped above the man laid out below him, "I'd give you anything, but when we play with words until we don't know what we're trying to say anymore, to the point where I could lose you; I can't do that. I won't do that."

Reid brought his now freed hand up to Aaron's other side, the more he tried the abate the trembling in the man's body, the more it shook. He felt helpless, and he didn't know what to do. Pulling Aaron down, until he was no longer leaning over Reid, but pressed into him. Spencer tried to press into the man, desperate to calm him, to stop the shivering that coursed through the man.

"I love you, Spencer Reid," Aaron breathed out, the words breaking the stiffness in his body, abating the tremors that ran through his build.

Spencer was having a hard time with his eyes, because he couldn't stop blinking, and as the dark room blurred more, and he felt hot trails burn from the corners of his eyes and into his hair he knew he was crying. The hands and arms he'd wrapped around Hotch were now infected with the same tremors they'd attempted to abate. His whole body gave way, and yet Reid couldn't fathom why. Why was he crying? His body made no sense, the reaction illogical. Nothing made any sense.

He didn't want Aaron to say those words, but on hearing them? Spencer would give up anything, everything, books, doctorates, anything he had to hear them again. Hotch lifted his head off Spencer's shoulder, enough to look him in the eyes as he braced up on his elbows, his hands going to Reid's face. Thumbs finding the wet tracks leading from his eyes and gently, carefully brushing them away.

"S-so," Reid tried, swallowing several times to return his voice, "Y-you're not dumping me?" He gave Aaron a hesitant smile, a strangled laugh. No matter how strong the desire, he couldn't bring himself to ask for it again. To hear the sound of Hotch's voice so earnest, honestly saying his name while declaring his love.

Reid thought he knew the word, that he kept it close to his heart. He liked to think people still revered it, but he hadn't held out hope, not given all he'd seen. Never once in his wildest dreams could he have imagined it the way it sounded when Aaron Hotchner used it. In comparison, his own grasp of the simple word felt like a drop in a bucket. One that lay filled to the brim, rippling over that descriptions give no justice.

Hotch didn't answer him, and though his eyes were still clouded and dark, a small smile tugged tentatively on his serious mouth. He inclined his head, a small shrug as he closed the distance.

How Hotch was able to kiss him in so many different ways, Reid had no clue.

He captured Reid's mouth yet again, and this was also different then any other he'd received. Soft, slow, barely there lips tickled his own. He didn't bid for entrance, and even when Spencer opened his mouth to let him in he didn't come.

Aaron kept his hands gentle tickles against Reid's neck, fingers lacing softly through his hair. Even as they lay entangled on the bed, Reid had the sensation that Hotch was only just within reach. Spencer arched his neck, trying to get more of the man. Hotch's hand slid under his neck, helping to support him as he craned in. He let Reid enter his mouth, let Reid's tongue explore the taste of him, even pulling him in farther.

Using the arms he had held around Hotch's back, he pulled the man in tightly, and Aaron let him. Finding the fabric of Hotch's shirt a barrier, Reid yanked on the cloth, pushing it up Hotch's trim waist. Hotch laughed quietly, breaking the kiss long enough to help Spencer remove the offending shirt. Shoes, pants, socks and two pairs of boxers soon joined it on the floor.

Even after all clothes were lost, in all his attempts to bring Hotch closer, Reid still felt like it wasn't enough. The more he tried to pull Hotch closer, the more he felt like he was the one being pulled in.

A whimper drew from Spencer's throat, causing a deep chuckle in reply. After what felt like an eternity, Hotch finally pressed back, earning a satisfying moan from the lithe body that ached as it arched into him.

Reid felt one of the hands caressing his skin leave as Hotch brought his arm once more over Reid's head. Glancing disheartened at the limb that was denying him more contact from his boss, Spencer saw the hand draw to the side table of the bed.

Aaron returned Spencer's attention back to him, as his other hand moved down to grasped hold of his aching erection. Spencer's head fell back in a gasp as Hotch stroked him slowly. In the haze that was distorting his vision, he saw Hotch's hand return from it's rummage through the bedside table. A small bottle moved in the hand of the man he loved, and Spencer's eyes froze at the sight of it.

"What's wrong?" Reid heard the Hotch's husky voice question at the seized joints and wide eyes. Reid didn't respond at first, mostly because his body had forgotten what it meant to be able speak under the sensations Hotch had pushed through him.

"I, uh, have a s-small confession," Reid breathed deeply, still unable to pull enough air into his lungs. Sliding down his hand, he returned Hotch's hold for one of his own. Hotch trembled, a moan in his throat as Reid held him. Reid fought down the temptation to draw out more of that voice, or the look in Hotch's eyes, as he continued to speak. "I-I want to," he started, "but I'm a little afraid. That, um, you might be more then I can handle."

Aaron paused, taking in Spencer's words, trying to focus. His lover's warm grasp over his sex was making thoughts painfully difficult and slow to draw in his mind. Reid gave him one plaintively arched brow, causing Hotch chuckle as understanding passed.

Kissing the man once more, Hotch smiled into the worried lips. "Reid, you don't have to do anything until you're ready." Hotch poured the lube onto his hand, rubbing it between fingers until it was warmed before grasping Reid's erection firmly once more. Reid gasped as the slick hand firmly pulled along the straining flesh, "Besides," Hotch amended, leaning back some so he could watch the man below him lost in his touch, "Whoever said that you had to be on the bottom?"

Reid shook his head, trying to keep his brain and think, but it was freaking hard at the moment. Really hard. "But, I," He tried, biting his lip to keep his voice from moaning at the slow paced sliding up and down his length, "W-want to have all of you," He would have given himself credit for speaking at all, but that would have required far too much consciousness then his brain could allot at present.

Hotch hummed as he leaned down again, kissing at Reid's chest that labored to draw in air. "Same here," Hotch murmured into his skin. Reid's face was a mixture of confusion, shock, and ecstasy.

Part of his brain cleared to realize that the conversation, though impressively intimate and revealing, was pointless. He wasn't going to last much longer. Quickly Spencer dropped both his hands between them, grasping at the long heat of Aaron's groin that had been pressing into his thigh. Working Aaron in a much more vigorous pace, he hoped to bring Aaron up to speed.

It wasn't long until they both came, their bodies falling apart at the end. Hotch fell onto Reid, who held the larger man weakly as he tried to remain in the room and not off chasing the endorphin high.

Reid's eyes were heavy, though, and closed of their own volition. He felt the body he held retract, pulling away. Spencer whimpered at the loss, but still couldn't open them. Hotch left the bed, going to the bath off his room to return a short moment later, a warm, wet cloth in hand. He gingerly cleaned down the wet mess left by their climax from Reid's stomach and groin. Though his skin cooled when the cloth was pulled away, Reid hummed happily as it was replaced later with the heat of Aaron's body as he returned to the bed, covers and arms rising about him.

Sleep hit Reid hard as he was held securely in Aaron's embrace, surrounded by the scent of Hotch. Through the last of strands of consciousness, he breathed in deeply, smiling at smell he'd come to identify as his new favorite scent.

Hotch didn't fall asleep at first. Even as his own eyes wanted to close, he couldn't bring himself to look away from the small smile, the relaxed brow that glistened in what little light entered the room as the genius nuzzled into him.

Things weren't perfect. Obstacles remained, but he wasn't going to let go of Spencer, not without fighting with every bit of his being.

When the sound of an alarm pulled Spencer from the thralls of sleep, he murmured a protest at the warm body that shifted in his grasp. The alarm ceased, and the body returned, earning a small hum of contentment from the genius.

The drift back into the darkness didn't last. The alarm sounded once more, but this time Reid scrunched his face as he tiredly opened his eyes. 'The Hotch' wasn't there. Clearing his throat, Reid sluggishly slipped out from the covers that were pulled to his chin.

Shutting off the annoying alarm, he grumbled as he looked about for his boxers. He managed to find them, but not the clothes he'd worn. Annoyed at their mysterious absence in the room, he searched Aaron's drawers until he found at least a shirt he could wear.

Pulling it on he, he rubbed his eyes as he followed the smell of brewing coffee into the kitchen. Hotch was showered and dressed. Two mugs steamed on the table in front of the older profiler as he shifted quickly through paper work. The pen in his hand was scratching quickly at the papers when Reid entered.

"Good morning." Hotch smiled up to the younger man whose hair was disheveled as he stumbled toward the table. A mumbled sound came from Spencer's throat, though his attentions focused an the mug of coffee which he set upon drinking.

Hotch swallowed the rest of his drink, standing and placing a kiss on the temple of the semi-conscious genius before heading to the sink. "You need to hurry. Take a shower, and I'll find you some pants. We'll have to stop by your place and pick up some clothes for you for work."

"Um," Reid sounded into his cup, his brain returning when the smell and taste hit his tongue. "Oh," Reid swallowed, waving a finger at the poached shirt. "Sorry, I couldn't find the clothes Morgan lent me."

"Yeah, they're gone," Hotch said his eyes going dark as he returned focus cleaning his cup, "I'll buy him a replacement set." Reid paused, recognizing that look from last night. Blinking, several times, he told himself it wasn't possible. No way. Though, every which way he tried to dissect it, somehow it made complete sense.

He tried no to laugh, but failed, sputtering. He was glad he swallowed the drink in his mouth. The sounds returned Hotch's annoyed gaze. Covering his mouth, he turned the grin away from the agitated look he was receiving from the kitchen.

"You need to hurry," Hotch warned, setting his cup into the drying rack, while Reid ran fingers at the tears pushing out of his eyes as he settled the convulsive laughing fit.

"You could have just told me that that was the reason you were so angry yesterday," Reid breathed, sucking down the rest of his drink in one large gulp.

"I was too busy controlling myself from stripping you down in the car, for that," Hotch muttered, and Reid spewed the contents of his cup across the table at the words. Hotch grabbed a towel while Reid quickly tried to lift the papers he'd chucked coffee on, incessantly apologizing.

He knew Hotch was talking about getting him out of Morgan's clothes, but the idea of Hotch stopping the car and stripping him down on the spot was… well, _yeah_. Hotch wiped down the mess, while Reid tried to shake the papers out. Spencer stopped, his eyes dancing down the length as his jaw fell and his breath left his lungs.

Hotch glanced up, silently cursing for not being more careful.

"Here," Hotch reached for the document, but Reid jumped back, flipping the pages quickly as his expression drew even more extreme in shock.

"Hotch!" Reid shouted, pointing at the document he held, "What the hell man?"

"It needs to be done," Hotch said, crossing his arms giving Reid a look that embodied his refusal to budge.

"Like hell it does!" Spencer snapped, his brown eyes darting from the filled out Transfer Request to the man before him.

"Yes, it does," Hotch sighed, and though he'd lost the edge to his tone, it was still firm and unyielding. "I can take up as an SSA on another team. I can still work in the BAU. What we just went through? Things could have been worse, could still be worse. What if our involvement causes me to make the wrong decision in the field? What happens when I make one that isn't based on the best choice, but because I'm in love with you? It wouldn't be fair to the rest of the team, nor to you. I'm not taking that kind of chance."

Reid's heart did a flip at the word "love" once more, blinking and shaking his head as he tried to keep on topic. "Hotch." Swallowing, Spencer looked steadily at his boss, "I swear to you, I understand. I really do. The team though," Closing his eyes, Reid could clearly see them, and he knew he was right. He couldn't be responsible for taking Hotch away from them. Inhaling deeply, he continued, "They _need _you. If you leave, they'd replace you and even if it was a promotion for Morgan or Rossi, it wouldn't work. Everyone needs _you _to be the Unit Chief."

"Reid," Hotch breathed out, his cheeks flushing slightly, "I'm sure that the team will be just fine~"

Spencer laughed, cutting him off as he shook the papers in his hands, "No, they won't. I'm sorry you're selling yourself short here, and you can't see how much the team relies on you to function as profilers, and as human beings. If I were to let you do this? Hotch," Reid shook his head, "if anyone leaves the team, it will be me."

Aaron frowned, opening his mouth to protest, but Reid stepped up, covering the protest with his hand. "If you do make a bad call based on our relationship, or place me above the rest of the team, I'll put in for transfer to another unit. Immediately. I promise."

"That doesn't guarantee that it won't happen," Hotch said when Spencer's hand retracted. His eyes were dark, concerned with the weight of the "what ifs" running through his mind. He wasn't just focused on losing an unsub, or an injury to his team or a victim. Their work involved the loss of lives, and being in control of Spencer's was more intimidating then he dared admit.

"Just be you," Reid said brightly to Aaron's pressed brow, dropping a quick kiss to the strained lips. "No one's perfect. I trust that you'll always do the best you can, and so does everyone else. I think you need a little more faith in yourself here, Hotch. Now," Reid gripped the transfer request in both hands, ripping the document in half before handing it back to Aaron. "I need a shower, and we need to hurry, right?"

Blinking at the shredded document, Hotch silently wondered at the man who quickly exited the kitchen. Shaking his head, the worry returned despite Reid's reassurances that he should trust himself.

_Just be you_?

Inhaling deeply, Hotch dropped the shredded document into trash as the sounds of water started down the hallway. "That's what I'm afraid of."

o-O-o

"Hey, so, lunch?" Garcia asked as she ran a finger along the edge of Prentiss' desk. Prentiss looked up to the tech, then down at the Chicken Baja wrap in her hands. Swallowing the large mouthful she'd just taken, her hand reached for the water bottle on the corner of the desk. Taking a swig to clear her mouth, the black haired woman gave the tech a curious look.

"That _would _be what I'm eating," Prentiss returned hesitantly to the cheery smile she was receiving.

"No, I mean us," Garcia waved a ringed finger between them. "We're going out to lunch."

"Uh," Prentiss blinked, trying to recollect if she'd signed up for a lunch date and forgotten it. She drew a blank. "I already~"

"It's not a request," Garcia whispered forebodingly as she inclined her waves of blond hair at the woman, her eyes pointedly darting toward the door.

"Oh," Prentiss breathed, though not very relieved to understand exactly what Garcia was talking about. _Damn it, JJ!_ Prentiss sighed as she unceremoniously dropped her lunch back into it's plastic dish. Snapping it closed, she wiped her hands and gathered her purse. Mentally the woman began preparing to for the verbal reaming Garcia would bestow.

JJ and Garcia should have more pity on her, she silently pouted to the tech's faked smile. After all, she was the only one who had to sit _literally _in the center of this fiasco and continue to play stupid about the whole thing. Her boss would start to consider her abilities as a profiler dulled for missing the obvious soon.

That truly wasn't fair. She was the one who had noticed Hotch's attraction to their genius wonder boy shortly after joining the team. She'd kept quiet on it, because Hotch hadn't even seemed aware of it. Though, she had wondered if that was why Gideon kept the two under such a careful eye.

If only she hadn't made the mistake of confiding in JJ and Garcia.

At first they laughed, then it sank in. That brought on the shock of realization. Yet, surprise diminished after a pause for consideration. They'd decided on the approach of "letting sleeping dogs lie." It would be for the best to let it run its course, whichever direction it took, without interference. That was what JJ had insisted.

Garcia, after the initial jaw dropping, was a-twitter, giggling how she knew Hotch had good tastes. The woman then had searched up video through the security system of Hotch "in his natural element." The technical analyst now had quite the collection of "Hotch/Reid" moments copied under an encrypted file.

Prentiss was somewhat assured that Garcia went along with the vow of silence because it gave her a secret to smile about. Prentiss went along with it, but she that didn't mean she agreed that this would be for the best, or that she liked faking ignorance. She liked open, blunt honesty. Her upbringing, undeniably, was to blame for this.

Unfortunately, no mater how much she hated it, she was good at playing politics.

As Prentiss neared the elevator, she caught sight of JJ heading into the bullpen, a takeout bag in her hands. 'Dead', Prentiss mouthed to Jennifer, sliding a finger across her throat at JJ's returned smirk. Garcia took the gesturing hand, pulling her pray into the elevator.

"Now, what shall we talk about?" Garcia asked pleasantly, hitting the button for the lobby.

Sighing, Prentiss shook her head in resignation, feeling the renewed tic twitching her eye, "Nothing. There's _nothing _to talk about."

Fin~

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This story ended up with more fluff then I'd ever thought I'd write, but somehow this is what the team did to my brain. Epilogue will follow that is a semi-prologue into a case fic that tickled my brain.

If you'd rather leave as is, then I'd recommend jumping ship now (Though how on earth you made it through twelve chapters is mystifying) : )

Just wanted to thank everyone again. Starofoberon, words don't do justice for what you do. I mean that. Also, apologies for making you prove how good you are with all the mistakes you have to catch. Reviewers and non-reviewers alike who stuck this one out to the conclusion; thanks for giving this story a shot. Specifically to the Reviewers side of that; thank you for posting your thoughts and opinions.


	13. Epilogue

Unfortunately, I had to release JJ. I can't ignore her leaving, and too many authors have given due credit her departure. The prior chapters were obviously set while JJ was still in the BAU, between that time and the epilogue is when she left. I love her character, but after much debate I'm following her departure from the show to keep the story semi-up to date… in the Epilogue. The irony.

Warnings: Slash, adult themes

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds belongs to CBS.

Special Thanks: Starofoberon for beta'ing, and making me laugh, and to all reviewers who help keep me inspired.

**Epilogue**

"So how are they treating you?" Hotch queried as he reviewed a report submitted by Morgan. He scrunched his face, not at JJ's reply on the Department of Defense, but at the evil looking face doodled in the corner of the printed document. Frowning, he slide the document back into its folder, writing in large letters "Resubmit" on the file.

"Hey Hotch!" Reid called, bursting through the door of his study. Hotch turned, quickly covering the mouthpiece and mouthing JJ's name to Reid. Spencer blanched, covering his mouth.

"Hotch?" JJ asked quizzically from the other end.

"Ah, sorry, I'm still here," Hotch breathed some relief when the woman didn't comment on the additional voice that had entered the room. "So, I'll see you next weekend, workload permitting?"

"Yeah, just make sure to pass the word on. My house, six o'clock sharp. Will wants to make jambalaya, and I have so much to catch everyone up on!"

"Okay, I'll make sure to tell everyone tomorrow," Hotch smiled into the cell as Reid sneaked up behind him, wrapping two long arms around his neck and dropping an unmarked brown paper bag onto the desk. Turning dark eyes to look questioningly up at Spencer's amused grin, he decided that the brown haired man reminded him oddly of a cat.

"Yeah, I'll see you then," JJ chirped, far too happily for after nine p.m. "Oh, and tell Spence goodnight for me!" Hotch blanched, the line going dead as he looked into the device.

"What?" Reid asked at the more then usually blank expression on Aaron's face.

"Nothing," Hotch said, closing the phone. "JJ says goodnight." Reid's grasp about his neck unconsciously tightened.

"You don't think…?" Reid asked, though he didn't want to know the answer to that question. Hotch pulled back the arms that were threatening to choke him out if they drew any tighter.

"I'd rather not," Hotch returned the unspoken sentiment as he looked down at the brown bag blocking the view over his work load. "What's this?"

Opening the bag, Hotch flushed as he pulled out what appeared to be an economy size bottle of Astroglide. Under that lay several condoms, a karma sutra massage oil, and a bottle of red wine. "Reid?" He asked slowly, arching a brow up at his lover's "emergency errand" procurements.

"They say you should be extremely relaxed, and that it doesn't have to hurt, or that it shouldn't hurt if you take the proper precautions. They also recommended a minor consumption of alcohol," Spencer leaned over him, pointing out the bottle, "starting with a shower, a full massage, using condoms, of course, and this," His finger pointed to the Astroglide. "It's suppose to be the best one. They said to use a lot," Reid lifted the bottle from Aaron's hand, testing its weight. "I'm not sure how much 'a lot' is, but I'm not taking any chances."

"They? More research?"" Hotch asked as his throat went dry. Even though he'd asked, he wasn't certain he wanted to know the answer. Reid tapped a finger to his temple, smiling at the questioning eyes.

"Not more, just extensive. Eidetic, remember?" Spencer grinned, sliding his hands down and under Aaron's arms. "I have no intention of having you in pain when I take you," He grinned assuringly as he lifted the man, pulling him from his desk. Hotch opened his mouth to protest, not because Reid was collecting on his offer to bottom for the young doctor, but on the fact that there was work that still left unfinished on his desk.

"Shower first," Reid walked, pushed, Aaron from his den and down the hall.

"Shower?" Reid rolled his eyes, sticking his tongue out at the elder man. One long finger gestured to the pink flesh.

"The aliko sha phis," He sucked the tongue back in, giving up on trying to speak around it, "can be used as well. I haven't decided yet, but just in case. Yes, shower. Then I rub you down to relax your muscles. Oh, I need to pour the wine now if we're going to allow time for your body to absorb the alcohol into your blood stream." Reid turned back to the kitchen, leaving Aaron to cock his head questioningly at the mission-oriented man's departure.

Shrugging, Aaron went with it. It felt like Reid's research had somehow brought him across instructions for cooking a turkey, but he knew it was the thought that counted. Hotch wasn't about to turn down the offer for sex, even if he felt a little like an entrée, but if there was a turkey baster entering this scenario then he was putting his foot down.

Spencer was in the kitchen when he heard the faint noise of the shower turning on. Sighing, he ran over the instructions he'd read for the twenty-eighth time. He had gained more confidence in what he was going to do, but he still didn't want to leave any room for error.

Pulling two glasses down from the cabinet, he opened the bottle of wine. Spencer estimated just how much alcohol per body weight it would take Aaron to get a relaxed buzz. Stopping, he cocked his head in thought as he examined the glass. The estimation was rough because he didn't know Aaron's metabolism rate or how much would be absorbed by the contents of his stomach. Tipping in a bit more, he gave the rather full glass a nod. Better to error on the side of caution.

As he lifted the glass, a ringing cut through the silence of the house. The sound of the phone made Spencer jump, spilling the red liquid on the kitchen tiles. Setting down the glasses on the center island, he started for the phone and stopped.

Looking to the device hesitantly, he decided against the impulse to answer it. Instead, he went to the sink and retrieved a towel to wipe up the mess of red liquid. It was Hotch's landline. He shouldn't be answering it anyway.

That was probably the first time Spencer was annoyed with the secrecy he'd insisted upon. Over something as trivial as a phone call in the middle of the night. Who would call this late anyway?

Finished with cleaning the spill, he took the rag to the sink to rinse it out while the answering device beeped from the foyer. A woman's voice came across the silence when he turned off the faucet, and Spencer paused, listening.

"Agent Hotchner, this Maryland District Attorney Lisa Monroe. I'm sorry to call you at your home residence. There's a matter I would like to discuss with regarding an a death row inmate housed at the North Branch Correctional Institution … I'll try to reach you in the morning, but if you get this message, please call me as soon as you can~"

Reid listened curiously at the DA listed her phone number. It could be someone from his days working with a prosecutor, but it seemed too formal a message. She didn't say it was an emergency though, so maybe he didn't need to tell Hotch about it? Contemplating potentially ruining the night or ignoring the message, the shuffling of bare feet brought his attention back up.

"That was fast~" Reid blinked as Aaron Hotchner entered the kitchen, rubbing a towel over his head. He gave Spencer a mild shrug, explaining that this was technically his second shower for the evening. Reid was listening, sort of.

Hotch was dripping wet. A white towel wrapped loosely about his pelvis, the tone of his rectus abdominis, with water trickling down the line of his linea alba, with his pectoralis flexing while he rubbed the towel across his black hair and it was all just, well…

He already knew how nicely trimmed Aaron was, but he hadn't had much chance to appreciate a proper view which didn't have him pressed up into his boss' chest and abs when he was all … glisten-y?

_That's not even a word_! Spencer's brain screamed in terror at the loss of mental vocabulary in addition to the use of his auditory functions.

Hotch actually watched as intelligent thought vacated the genius. He ceased wiping down his hair, blinking as he dropped the towel over his shoulder. Reaching up to Spencer's hand, he pulled out the full glass of wine, downing it like a shot. The act drew some of beset man's brain back from the la-la land it had vacated off to.

"Hey! I know that you're aware that's not the proper way to drink~" Hotch gave Reid a cool glance, setting down the first glass and then downing the second one. "T-That was mine!"

"Um, hm," Hotch returned, setting the second drained glass by the first. Grabbing Spencer's hand, he pulling the younger man into him, panting a deep kiss before pulling him down the hallway. Hotch just hoped the massage would go as quickly as the wine had. He was all right before, but having Spencer look at him like, whatever the hell that had just been, had instantly diverted additional blood to his groin.

Reid forgot about the phone call, with every patch of water his shirt soaked off the body that kept pulling him in. Things were hard enough just trying to pull the twenty-ninth recitation of instructions through his head when Aaron was devouring him, to remember a phone call.

_There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness_.

_~Friedrich Nietzsche_

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As mentioned in the summary, this is a story explaining how Hotch and Reid become Hotch/Reid. The end is more like a beginning, but this _is _the end of this story. Kudos to all, and I hope you had as much fun as I did writing this one. As promised I'll have the beginning of the case fic up soon.

Cheers!


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